


Venus and Galatea

by Carrogath



Series: Venus and Galatea [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-16 05:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4612701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carrogath/pseuds/Carrogath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While seeking supporters for the Divine election, Cassandra is pursued by a woman of extravagant means. Now if only she could convince herself that she didn't want to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Well-Mannered Idiot

Though now it stood as if it had always been there, Josephine’s office was makeshift—built into the crevices of the fortress halls, right before the entryway to the war room. She used the room to greet dignitaries on their way to the councils. By all means, it appeared comfortable for what it was, especially when the rest of Skyhold seemed so massive otherwise. Still, Cassandra would never feel at ease here. Diplomacy was hardly her strong suit.

“You called, Ambassador?” she asked from the doorway.  
  
Josephine looked up from her desk. She was always writing down something or another. “Yes. Cassandra, I’d like to have a word with you.”  
  
She approached her desk. “I’m listening.”  
  
“As you know,” she said, “Corypheus’s defeat draws near. Now that things at the Grand Cathedral are beginning to calm down a bit, there is the matter of the Divine election.”  
  
“I have been told as much.”  
  
“Of which you are a potential candidate,” Josephine said, eyeing her.  
  
“I have also been informed of that already.”  
  
“Then I suppose the Inquisitor has also told you of our plans to have you elected?”  
  
She frowned. “No. That’s the first I’ve heard of it. We discussed it briefly, though I was not aware the Inquisitor had taken action yet.”  
  
“It was only recently decided—yesterday, during our daily council. I was told to assist in your election by any means possible, and while putting you on the Sunburst Throne is not entirely out of the question, there are…” she looked earnestly at her, “complications.”  
  
“Such as?”  
  
“Your reputation, for one. You may have once been championed as the Hero of Orlais, but it has been over a decade since then.”  
  
“Is the Inquisition not one of the most well-respected organizations in Thedas?”  
  
“One of the most notable, certainly. But not everyone approves of our methods, and many people see you in particular as brash and abrasive. It will take time—and many favors—to put you in a position to win the seat of the Divine.”  
  
“You make it sound as if I have no control over this.”  
  
“You would have more, but I doubt you’d want it.”  
  
“Such as?”  
  
“Well, for one, you could actually try to greet people who wish to see you. I have turned down many notable visitors in the past because you refused to see them. I know you have little interest in matters of the court, but allowing people see your face would go a long way in earning their trust.”  
  
“More often, it has lead to their reproach.”  
  
“You only have your temper to blame for that.”  
  
“You think my personality is the reason they’ll refuse me?”  
  
Josephine paused. “I…” She was rarely at a loss for words. “I believe that is a part of it, yes. Though I am certain we would have a much easier time if you were a little more cordial to your supporters. I know you respect only strength and sincerity, but those qualities alone are not enough to win you the position. The Chantry wants to know that you won’t try to solve all your problems with brute force.”  
  
“Then how do I convince them?”  
  
“With your words. Your carefully considered words.”  
  
She grimaced. “You doubt I’m capable of that.”  
  
“If you cannot even manage this much, then forget about becoming the Divine. You’ll have to deal with far more frivolous and far more numerous issues—and those cannot be solved by violence, either.”  
  
“Enlighten me, then. How can I make myself… more agreeable?”  
  
She looked to the side, frowned. “I suppose we could get you a tutor.”  
  
“You mean to give me etiquette lessons.” She sighed. “Maker preserve us. I appreciate the concern, Lady Josephine, but I am not a child; my behavior is not something so easily changed.”  
  
Her brow furrowed. “You wouldn’t even consider it?”  
  
“I believe I know myself well enough to claim such things. I think you are correct—I would not consider myself socially adept in the least—but I disagree with your methods.”  
  
“I didn’t have that many methods to begin with. If there is no one to teach you, then how can you expect to change? Just telling you what to do wouldn’t accomplish anything on its own.”  
  
“Are you sure those are our only options, though? A tutor, or nothing at all?”  
  
Josephine gestured helplessly with one hand. “I mean… I suppose _I_ could… if only to reduce the risk of you injuring someone.”  
  
“You could what?”  
  
“I could… give you guidance,” she said, reluctantly. “If you’d like. I cannot claim to be a better teacher than an actual hired tutor, but at least I’m a familiar face.”  
  
“You?”  
  
“Is there a problem with that?”  
  
“You’re going to teach me how to behave?”  
  
“If that is what you want, Cassandra. I won’t force you into an arrangement you aren’t comfortable with.”  
  
“What do I have to do?”  
  
Josephine stood up and started to organize the papers on her desk. “Come back here, I suppose. I’ll lend you some books and… we’ll see what happens from there.”  
  
“That is a surprisingly informal arrangement, coming from you.”  
  
“I doubt you would have settled for any less. Oh…” She cast a look out the window. “Lady Derwood should be here by now. I have to take my leave, but if you’re interested come back tomorrow, and we’ll discuss the matter then.”  
  
“All…” Josephine was out the door before Cassandra could even finish, “right.” She frowned as the door closed behind her.  
  
This was a terrible idea, wasn’t it.

 

* * *

 

She supposed Josephine wasn’t expecting to see her back so soon.  
  
“Cassandra?” Josephine asked when she entered her office the next day.  
  
“You said we would continue this conversation, did you not?” she said, standing in front of the desk. There were three books on the desk, each one some manner of behavioral reference.  
  
“I… suppose I did.”  
  
“Don’t make such an uncomfortable face,” Cassandra muttered. “At least give me credit for coming back.”  
  
She put her papers away, and stood up. “Let me offer you a seat, then. This might take some time…”  
  
“You said you had books?”  
  
“You’re a good reader,” Josephine said as she dragged an armchair up to the other side of desk. “I figured they might help.”  
  
“Do you need help with that?”  
  
“I’ll be fine, but thank you.”  
  
She sat down. “What am I meant to glean from these books?”  
  
“As little or as much as you want. They’re references for courtly manners. Some of the information is a little outdated, but you’ll still want to keep them in mind when you’re dealing with the nobility as Divine.”  
  
“Give me an example.”  
  
She leaned back and sighed. “Let me think… When you’re offered food or drink by the host of the gathering, you accept it, even if you have reason to believe it’s poisoned. You don’t have to consume it in the host’s presence, but they will take offense if you refuse it outright.”  
  
“I knew that.”  
  
“But do you do it, or are you simply numbly aware of it?”  
  
She grumbled. “These slights of behavior have nothing to do with the actual politics of the Chantry.”  
  
“But people will be more inclined to listen to you if they respect you.”  
  
“By your logic, a well-mannered idiot would be more suited to take the Sunburst Throne.”  
  
“And it is precisely that attitude that is going to destroy your chances of obtaining it in the first place! I know you have your reservations about the Game—”  
  
“They are more than mere reservations, Ambassador—”  
  
“But you can’t change the fact that it exists, and you know that. A well-mannered idiot wouldn’t be any more suited to the throne, but she would be the more likely choice. Idiots are tractable and easily manipulated by others.”  
  
“So you’re telling me to act like an idiot?”  
  
“I’m telling you to disguise your intentions.”  
  
She scoffed. “This is going nowhere.”  
  
“Think of it as a game of Wicked Grace. You never want to reveal your hand unless it is absolutely advantageous for you to do so.”  
  
Josephine was admittedly skilled at Wicked Grace.  
  
“Then what should I do instead?”

“If you are averse to outright lying, you speak around the truth. If you cannot manage that, you avoid the subject. You will be surrounded by people with ulterior motives; these are problems you will be dealing with for the rest of your reign—and very likely for the rest of your life.” She frowned a bit. “Did you never speak to Leliana about these matters?”  
  
“I handled the Divine’s military operations, not her reconnaissance ones. I was never expected to do Leliana’s work. And it is hardly as if she is any more sociable.”  
  
“If you knew her while she was still a bard, you would disagree.” She paused again. “But, getting back to the matter, you’ll need to learn to be more indirect. For instance, how would you try to convince someone that you’re the best candidate in for the Sunburst Throne?”  
  
“I…” She hesitated. She was honestly reluctant to take on the position, though she was determined to do so if chosen. “I suppose I would try to tell them of my planned reforms.”  
  
“But what if they aren’t particularly interested in your reforms? What if they were interested in something else?”  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“Like your connections to the Inquisition. To Leliana, or to the Herald of Andraste.”  
  
“Then I suppose I would have to trade favors for this person’s support.”  
  
“Suppose you don’t know what they want, though. How would you learn what would make him or her interested in supporting you?”  
  
“I… I would ask.”  
  
“And if they aren’t willing to tell?”  
  
She frowned. “Why would I be asking someone if they were so reluctant to tell me?”  
  
“Perhaps this person is necessary for your election. Perhaps it’s someone who will be voting!”  
  
Threats were the first thing that came to mind, but she had the sense that Josephine wouldn’t want to hear it. “I suppose I would ask other people who were more willing to speak about this person’s interests, and then approach them once I had secured the necessary information.”  
  
Josephine smiled. Maker have mercy. When was the last time had Josephine smiled at her? “So you do understand. The only question is, how would you win those people over?”  
  
“Very likely by losing my temper at how far down the ladder I’d have to go,” she said through her teeth. “Your ways are almost needlessly roundabout.”  
  
“You and Leliana both say that, but they are effective, and sometimes they are the best solution. Alliances sustained over time are more likely to last than those forged in the heat of the moment. Perhaps an ally will forget one favor that you did for them, but they cannot forget all of them at once.” Josephine stacked the three books on her desk on top of each other and slid them over to her. “At any rate, you seem to have a good enough understanding of how diplomacy works.”  
  
“It is hardly an obscure practice,” she said, taking the books into her hands. “I only lack the necessary patience for it.”  
  
“Are you willing to develop it, though?”  
  
“If I must.”  
  
“Good,” she said, and smiled again. “Madame de Malmaison is arriving next week.”  
  
She blanched. “Excuse me?”  
  
“I said, Madame de…”  
  
“I heard what you said. Why are you having me talk to her, of all people?”  
  
“Madame de Malmaison is one of your staunchest supporters.”  
  
“I know that.”  
  
“Then what is your problem with her?”  
  
“You invited her; you know exactly what my problem is. Malmaison’s intentions are hardly pure.”  
  
“She isn’t going to do anything to you.”  
  
She stood up and turned to leave. “Ugh,” she said, shaking her head, “If I’d heard that she was coming, I would’ve made sure to be absent that week…”  
  
“Are you coming to the meeting?”  
  
She barely turned around. “Don’t be ridiculous. That woman is a stain on my conscience.”  
  
“Cassandra…”  
  
“You don’t know her the way I know her.” Cassandra headed for the door.  
  
She heard Josephine stand up. “Cassandra, she can help you.”  
  
Cassandra opened the door. “I don’t want her help.”  
  
“Wait!” Josephine followed her into the main hall. “I’m not suggesting that you have to bargain with her.”  
  
“Good, because I would have never agreed to it.” She walked outside, Josephine trailing behind her.  
  
“All you have to do is be there. You can greet her, and then you can excuse yourself and leave.”  
  
Cassandra came to a stop. “Really? That is all you ask?”  
  
“I know very well that you hate her,” Josephine said. “But trust me, when you become an elected official, you are going to have to deal with multitudes of people that you hate. It is better for you to learn to deal with it now, while you still have training dummies you can vent your frustrations on, than later, when the only dummies around are the people you’re trying to work with. The ones filled with straw are much more forgiving when you hit them.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of her week was spent clearing out Venatori camps in the Hissing Wastes—a thankless job, made even more thankless by the presence of Sera and Dorian both. Why the Inquisitor always thought to put the three together, she would never understand. She knew that Dorian, at least, preferred Iron Bull’s company. Or perhaps that was why they were kept apart.  
  
They took their supper at a camp in the mountains, though the altitude did little to keep them away from the sands.  
  
“So I heard Madame de Malmaisy’s comin’ to Skyhold,” said Sera, after choking down the rest of the water in her flask. The air dried one’s throat out within minutes, and if they were not adequately prepared, they would find themselves dehydrated in the middle of an unforgiving desert.  
  
“Is that someone I should know about?” asked Dorian, seated on a rock beside her.  
  
“She’s one of Empress Celene’s ex-lovers,” Cassandra offered, sitting across from them.  
  
“Though I heard Celene’s not her type,” said Sera.  
  
“Then who?” said Dorian.  
  
“She prefers her women…” Sera stared at Cassandra. "A bit tougher than that.”  
  
Dorian looked at Sera, and then at her. “Does this have something to do with the Divine elections?”

"I believe so,” said Cassandra. “Madame de Malmaison is notoriously self-indulgent. It’s very likely that she’s coming over to flaunt her influence at the Inquisition, and then make some preposterous demand of me in exchange for her support.”  
  
“Which you’re going to refuse, of course,” said Dorian.  
  
“What other choice do I have?”  
  
“You could agree.”  
  
She glared at him. “I’m not interested in her.”  
  
“That never stopped anybody.”  
  
“Josephine wants me to be there,” Cassandra continued. “She wants me to make my presence known, and then leave. For what purpose I do not know, but I’m assuming she has some kind of plan.”  
  
“Probably tryin’ to make nice, yeah? Twist the madame’s arm a bit?” said Sera.  
  
“So she wants to use me as bait. Wonderful.”  
  
“Josephine is going to use you as bait to win you your own election?” Dorian asked, grinning.  
  
“I won’t question her methods if they work.”  
  
“It’s not the methods I’m surprised at—it’s the people. I always knew you had female admirers, Cassandra, but I never suspected them to be so… prominent. Our Seeker? Popular with the ladies?”  
  
She groaned in anticipation of his next words. “Enough, Dorian. I enjoy being fawned over by women even less than you do.”  
  
“Oh, but I do enjoy it! Except for the part where I have to smash their little hearts into pieces…”  
  
“At least they misinterpret your intentions. Mine are fully aware of what they’re doing.”  
  
“That’s because you let them bother you. Take it all in stride, and the novelty of pestering you will go away. You only have yourself to blame for being so irresistible.”  
  
“Their vulgar behavior is the fault of no one but themselves,” said Cassandra, tightly.  
  
“Perhaps, but knowing that won’t make them go away, will it?” said Dorian.  
  
“Then would you rather I direct them toward you?”  
  
“Oh, Cassandra—your admirers would want nothing to do with me.”  
  
“All the better, then. I want nothing to do with them, either.”  
  
“But maybe Josie’s onto something,” said Sera, after a moment. “Maybe you could use ‘em for something other than target practice.”  
  
She made a disgusted noise. “I hope you’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.”  
  
“What? Put on a show?” Sera thought about it. “It’s got merit, I’ll admit.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“For real, though. I mean, if Dorian can win girls over without having to commit, then you probably could too. If you could get over the whole ‘anger management’ thing.”  
  
“And it’s such a useful skill!” he said brightly. “You’d be able to sidestep so many more awkward situations, if you only used your height and good looks to your advantage.”  
  
“This conversation is ridiculous,” Cassandra said.  
  
Sera and Dorian looked at each other.  
  
“I don’t think so,” said Sera.  
  
“Me either,” said Dorian. “Perhaps it isn’t in your personality, but even if you were completely insincere about it, I'm sure they’d still be charmed.”  
  
“You mean, if I behaved the way I normally did, but still interacted with them,” said Cassandra.  
  
“Precisely! It is your abrasive, moody countenance that turns them on, after all. If you were an absolute delight to speak to, you would lose your whole appeal.”  
  
“You’re making it sound as if they are actually attracted to my unpleasant qualities.”  
  
“That’s exactly what he means,” said Sera.  
  
“Maker preserve us,” Cassandra said, incredulous. “There are women who are in love with me because I am temperamental and prone to violence.”  
  
“It’s sexy,” said Dorian, “if you know how to flaunt it.”  
  
“I think it’s hot,” said Sera. “I mean. Sometimes. Maybe not with you, though; I know you too good.”  
  
Cassandra stood up and looked around. “Where is the next Venatori camp? If we keep this up for any longer, they’re going to ambush us.”  
  
Just then, an arrow whistled through the air past her face, and she had never been more grateful to narrowly avert death.

 

* * *

 

The day they arrived back at Skyhold, Cassandra had all but forgotten about Sera and Dorian’s plans for her. She had not neglected Malmaison’s arrival date, but she had her reputation on the mind more than anything else. Josephine was right—if Malmaison was not appeased, then she could make Cassandra’s prospects for the position of Divine seem much less feasible. Her mind flitted briefly to Dowager Beauharnais, who had been a supporter of the Nevarran royal family for years, but Beauharnais had all but vanished from the Orlesian court. If not women, then perhaps she could appeal to men.  
  
As she carried that thought with her outside onto the fortress grounds, she ran into Josephine. And almost knocked her over.  
  
“My apologies, Ambassador; I didn’t see you.”  
  
“Oh, I am terribly sorry…” She shook her head, regaining her balance. “Cassandra?”  
  
“We only just came back.”  
  
“From the Hissing Wastes, correct? You look a little thinner than before. Are you eating well?”  
  
“I will be fine.”  
  
“Good. Madame de Malmaison arrives tomorrow—in the afternoon, I was told.”  
  
“Don’t remind me.”  
  
“You don’t need to stay for very long, only enough to make your presence felt. I will take care of the rest. Maker willing, she will cooperate, and we can all be rid of her that much sooner.”  
  
“What did you have planned for her, exactly?”  
  
“Oh… There’s some dispute between her and and some Fereldan arl. They’ve been squabbling for decades now. I think it was over a duel? Mercy, my memory shouldn’t be failing me at this age… Though what she really wants is protection from the Red Templars. She lives right along the western border of the Emprise du Lion, and though we captured Suledin, she doesn’t live close enough to take advantage of it. Since she is a… fervent supporter of you personally, she is seen as somewhat of a target by the Venatori, and with Orlais still recovering from the civil war, Celene has little to offer her. She considers herself vulnerable.”  
  
“That doesn’t sound like it would be difficult to arrange.”  
  
“It isn’t. I’m only worried that it won’t be enough.”  
  
“And that’s where I come in.”  
  
“I’m not asking for much—a few sympathetic words here and there, but patience, mostly, and quiet. I won’t ask you to charm her.”  
  
Cassandra bristled.

Josephine noticed her movement. “Was there a problem with what I said?”  
  
She shook her head. “No. It’s nothing.”  
  
“That was a strange reaction to nothing.”  
  
“Sera and Dorian had a little fun at my expense during our patrols in the Wastes. It is nothing to concern yourself with.”  
  
“Then you will definitely going to be at the meeting tomorrow?”  
  
“I will show up, but I won’t make any promises.”  
  
“Try to appear presentable,” was the last thing she said before she left.

 

* * *

 

“Presentable,” Cassandra snarled into her drink.

The rest of the day had been terrible. Thanks to the impending visit, she could barely focus on her training, and though she had received good news in the form of a letter from a fellow Seeker, she could not even bring herself to answer it. The prospect of seeing Malmaison had left her in a progressively worse mood.

Fortunately, there was always the bar.

“She wants me to be ‘presentable’ for someone I don’t like, to win me a position I didn’t ask for, to please someone who shouldn’t even be in charge.”

She heard a voice from the other end of the counter. “That’s some pretty strong wording, don’t you think, Seeker?”

She didn’t budge. “Pretend you didn’t hear that, Varric.”

“I was just about to leave.”

Cassandra looked up at him as he approached the door. “Wait.”

“Now what?” Varric turned to face her.

“Varric. You know of lying and self-expression.”

“That’s… one way of putting it, yeah.” He hovered by the doorway of the tavern. “What's the matter?”

“Josephine said I must make a good impression around Madame de Malmaison, but I can’t stand her.”

Varric began walking toward her. “Oh, I don’t know if I can help you with that,” he said, cracking a grin. “I can bluff, but I can’t fake being pleasant. I’m pretty sure Ruffles is the only one of us who can manage that.”

“You’re a writer. You assume other people’s identities in your work. Surely you can conceive of how I am supposed to behave around this woman.”

He leaned against the counter. “How does Ruffles expect you to behave?”

“I don’t know. Well, I suppose,” she said lamely. “Sera and Dorian suggested that I should… charm her.”

“Sparkler _and_ Buttercup?”

“And would you please stop referring to them by those ridiculous names.”

“Wait.” He waved his hands. “What’s going on here? Why are you all so interested in this… Madame de Malmaison?”

“Did you not hear? The Inquisitor plans to make me Divine.”

“Did the Inquisitor say that?”

“Yes, and Josephine is seeing the plan through to fruition. Inviting Malmaison over for talks was apparently part of that.”

“Who is she, exactly?”

“She has been a supporter of the Chantry for several years, now, but only because she is personally interested in me. If it were up to me, I would have contacted Dowager Beauharnais instead, but she seems to be occupied with her own affairs.”

“’Personally interested’ as in…?”

“Unflatteringly obsessed. She was an ex-lover of Empress Celene’s, and I am sure she would like to bed me as well.”

“That’s… unfortunate. And Ruffles wants you to play nice for diplomacy’s sake; am I getting that right?”

“It would be better if I were not required to show up at all, but Josephine wants me to learn how to deal with people, or else I will be ill-prepared for the responsibilities of the Divine.”

“She’s got a point.”

Cassandra glared at him.

“What? You have a bad temper. You know that. If she thinks she can help you with it, then good for her.”

“So?”

“So… What?”

“What do you think I should do?”

“You’re asking me for advice?”

“Speak now, Varric, or I will regret having done so.”

“All right, all right.” He sighed. “Let me see here… So you have to talk to this Madame de Malmaison, who’s probably going to be acting in a way that pisses you off, without trying to strangle her.” He thought for a moment. “Nah, I got nothing.”

“ _Varric_.”

“Give me a minute, OK? It’s not like I can come up with these things on the spot… Why don’t you just, I don’t know, tell her how much you value her support, or something.” He shrugged. “You may not always see eye to eye, but you appreciate what she’s doing for you, and… you hope you can both continue to benefit from this clearly very positive and healthy relationship, yadda yadda; the Inquisition will see that she’s compensated for her assistance. How’s that?”

She thought about it. “So you are useful for something, every now and then.”

“Yeah, if you can manage to remember all of that in your frothing rage.”

“According to Josephine, Malmaison may be crucial to my success. I don’t have a choice if I am to become the Divine.”

“But do you actually want to become the Divine? Or are you just going to keep talking about how it’s your ‘duty’ to suck up to people you don’t even like?”

“I am not selfish enough to sabotage my own chances. And besides, those who desire the position too much are unlikely to make the best decisions for the Chantry in the long run. I believe I am a good candidate, if nothing else.”

Varric chuckled dryly. “You can’t stand the thought of being happy, can you? It’s like you’re allergic to it.”

“I will be happy when I am satisfied with my work.”

“Which is never.” He stood up. “All right, now I’m really out of here.” He waved as he passed through the doorway. “Good luck with your meeting, Seeker. You’ll need it.”

 

* * *

 

The next morning she woke up with a terrible headache, and it was not the kind that signaled a hangover.

Nerves. It was nerves. After washing up, she headed to the dining hall to take her breakfast and made everyone around her somewhat uncomfortable.

“Cassandra, you look like you want to kill someone,” said a voice from beside her.

She turned. It was Sera, seated beside her on the bench. “Don’t I always?”

“Yeah, but it looks like it’s gonna be a bloodbath today. You really that shook up about this?”

“I am uncomfortable, yes,” she said, stabbing at her breakfast with noted displeasure. “Madame de Malmaison arrives today, and I am still not emotionally prepared for it. I fear I may compromise Josephine’s plans if I am too clumsy.”

“Just grit your teeth and bear it. She doesn’t even expect you to be around for that long—only enough to make it seem like you actually care.”

“A moment is all I need to ruin it for her.”

“What’s the worst that you could do? Other than the obvious, I mean.”

“Offend her. Disturb her. Maker knows; I can never tell what they’re thinking about me.” She dropped her fork in disgust. “I don’t spend enough time exchanging pleasantries to understand all these obscure signals.”

“You don’t need to. They all hate each other anyhow.”

“Then why do they even bother to feign goodwill? It seems like such a waste.”

“Don’t ask me.”

Cassandra went on, irritated. “Even Dorian is blatantly facetious, and yet he’s still one of the most popular members of the Inquisition. Were he in my place, I’m sure he’d have the madame’s support as well as half of her estate, and on top of which he’ll have insulted her and her family in multiple ways before the conversation was over.”

“Well…” said Sera, and stared very hard at nothing in particular. “He might be a bit of a shit, but you could learn from him.”

“I have more respect for others than he does.”

“What’s the point, though? No one in Orlais’s honest; you’re the only one of ‘em who doesn’t want to lie.”

Cassandra frowned. “What are you suggesting?”

“I weren’t suggestin’ nothin’. Just… ‘observin’,’ as you people like to say. Dorian gets people to talk because he’s a big fat liar, and you don’t because you care about values.”

“They’re important.”

“So’s becoming the Divine.”

Cassandra stood up. “I’m done. If I continue to talk about this, I will only worry myself sick.”

When she left, she headed straight for the training grounds. Today was going to be a very long day.


	2. Romance and Pretty Words

Josephine had four meetings that day, all one after another. First was a meeting with officials from Redcliffe, then a meeting with visiting dignitaries from Antiva, then their planned visit from Malmaison, and then finally their usual war council. Somehow the scheduling had turned out such that she would be booked for the entire day, but at least tomorrow she wasn’t expecting anyone new.

Malmaison was the one she had been worried about—had been, because it was over faster than she had expected. Cassandra arrived and talked to her for a good twenty minutes, mostly out of earshot of Josephine herself, and then afterward Malmaison agreed to every one of her terms without complaint. It was suspiciously convenient, but she wouldn’t have the time to discuss the matter with Cassandra until sundown. If she was lucky, then she would be at Skyhold and willing to talk. If not, then she dreaded what she would have to report to the Inquisitor.

Cassandra received her message and arrived on time. She thanked the Maker for the Seeker’s discipline; for all the issues it caused, it saved them many more.

“You called for me?” she asked, once she passed through the doorway.

“Yes,” said Josephine, standing up from her desk. “You have to tell me what you said to Malmaison. Her behavior was worrisome; she was too quick to agree to our terms.”

Cassandra looked troubled. “Oh. That.”

“You agreed to something strange, didn’t you? Do you remember making any promises, or did you offer her something, or anything like that? You talked to her for much longer than I expected. You must have said something to please her.”

“I was admittedly nervous. I may have said something unusual in my distress.”

“I need specifics, Cassandra. Please tell me you didn’t agree to anything that the Inquisition can’t actually provide her with.”

“I… No.” She shook her head. “Not at all. She did not ask for much.”

“That can’t be true. It would have be something she would have never expected in the first place, for the reaction to be so positive.”

“I…” She stared into the ground. “I agreed to meet with her, at her home, in the Emprise du Lion. Privately.”

“Maker’s breath.” Josephine groaned. “Cassandra, you don’t even like her!”

“I did not realize that was what she had been talking about at first. I would have refused had I not been so… gauche.”

“When is this… meeting?” Josephine said, though a different word had come to mind.

“We did not actually arrange a formal visit. I suppose it is whenever I can make the time for it.”

“But she’ll be expecting you at some point, certainly.”

“Will she? She seems to have picked up on my gracelessness fast enough.”

“I doubt she’ll let you forget it,” Josephine said, looking at her.

“This is why I do not come to meetings. It appears that I am exactly the kind of tractable idiot vying for the Sunburst Throne that you warned me about.”

“Well, at least we have her unequivocal support. Even if the price is undoubtedly going to scar you.”

“I’m not going to sleep with her,” said Cassandra.

“I said nothing of the sort.”

“Then what’s the alternative?”

“I don’t know yet,” she said, harshly. “Of all the complications I had foreseen, this was not one of them. You’re not even attracted to women; I have no idea how she managed to talk you into this.”

Cassandra looked away, grimacing.

“Andraste preserve us.” Josephine shook her head. “I don’t even know where to begin with this… I need some time to think about it. And I may need to ask Leliana for help.”

“If you think Leliana would be of assistance, then I could discuss the matter with her myself.”

“Don’t. I have had to talk her out of her ideas far too many times. She may concoct some very imaginative plans, but she does not consider the Inquisition’s reputation when she tries to carry them out. Leliana believes that eventually everything will be swept under the rug, when it most certainly will not.”

She looked reluctant. “If that is what you want. I am sorry for inconveniencing you, Lady Josephine. I only wished to help.”

“If nothing else, I will accept that your intentions were harmless. But please try to keep quiet at meetings from now on. You cannot let this become a habit.”

 

* * *

 

It was dark outside by the time she managed to catch Leliana’s attention. The rookery smelled strongly of animal matter, so she tended to avoid the place and invite Leliana over to her office instead, but the issue was pressing enough that she would ignore the smell for an hour or two.

“Cassandra… did what?” Leliana asked, amazed. They sat at her small writing desk, Josephine across from her.

Josephine felt a headache coming on. “She inadvertently made plans with the Madame de Malmaison to meet with her at her home, in private. Essentially, she agreed to a tryst with Malmaison, even though she has no interest in her whatsoever.”

“Is Cassandra trying to play the Game?” she said, smiling.

“I certainly hope not, because this is a terrible start. I don’t know what the Malmaison is attempting, but depending on how poorly this all goes, Cassandra might not make it out unscathed.”

“And we can’t have that, now can we?”

She sighed. “What are our options, Leliana? We can’t just let Cassandra take care of it. It would be a disaster.”

“What do we know about Malmaison, other than her relationship with the Empress…” Leliana tapped her chin. “I could try to blackmail her out of asking Cassandra to come over, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“It would be the easiest way, but I doubt Malmaison will be that easy to scare. It will take more than that, especially for someone who holds so much power and influence at court.”

“I’m not on the ground in Orlais as often since we’ve had to manage the Inquisition. Sera might be a little better at this than I am. If we simply need to shame her, then the Friends of Red Jenny could easily take care of that.”

“We need an audience for that, and the next major celebration won’t be held for months. The Divine elections will be held long before we’re given a chance to publicly ridicule her.”

“Orlais throws more parties than that. There has to be something…”

“But it has to be something we can use against her, and soon.”

“Is Malmaison the one with Nevarran ties?”

“No, that’s Dowager Beauharnais. We would have looked to her for support, but she has been unresponsive as of late.”

“That would have made this a lot easier.” Leliana thought again. “We can at least use the Jennies as a decoy, if we need a way to distract her. That would buy me some time to plant the damning evidence, and then…”

“You still plan to have Cassandra go to her estate?”

“Let me think, Josie. If we can prove that Malmaison has less than flattering bedroom habits, then we can shame her out of doing anything to Cassandra.”

“What kind of… bedroom habits are we talking about, here?”

“Cassandra allowed me to keep her correspondence with the madame as blackmail material. I can understand why she’d be so worried about her; Malmaison goes into vivid detail. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with her fantasies, personally, but she doesn’t care about how Cassandra feels about her solicitations. It doesn’t matter to her if she makes her uncomfortable. She’s very selfish, and used to getting what she wants.”

“If Cassandra hadn’t kept quiet about her concerns, then we could have resolved the problem earlier.”

“I don’t think she considered this of enough importance to the Inquisition to bring it up.”

“We have used the Inquisition to do much more selfish things,” said Josephine. “But for now, the matter appears to be out of my hands.”

“Are you going to continue giving her lessons, at least?” asked Leliana. “She could benefit from a little more practice.”

“She could ‘benefit’ from a complete change in personality.” Josephine sighed, and then laughed. “I’ll see what I can do, if she is willing to continue them at all. Thank you, Leliana. I have no idea what I would’ve done without your help.”

“Not at all. I’m always here for you, you know that.”

 

* * *

 

She brought the matter up to Cassandra at the training grounds the next morning, while she was performing warm-up exercises.

“Again?” she asked. “You still insist on this, after everything that has happened?”

“You will not improve by ignoring the problem. If nothing else, talking about it will make you more aware of it, and that’s at least a start.”

“What of the madame?”

“Leliana is… purportedly taking care of it,” Josephine said. “With any luck, you will not have to be involved, but don’t be surprised if she asks you to go along with the madame’s plans. I assure you that we will do our best to avoid letting you come to harm.”

She looked at her practice sword, and then up at her. “Then Malmaison is being dealt with.”

“Her attitude is unattractive, to put it mildly. The more I hear about her, the more I regret inviting her over. She left earlier today, so if you’ve been attempting to avoid her, I can say with confidence that you can’t embarrass yourself around her any longer.”

“I will take some small measure of comfort in that.”

Josephine nodded. “I understand if you are hesitant to continue these lessons, so I won’t force you to attend them. But come as you’d like, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you out.”

She thought about it for a moment. “You are giving me a choice?”

“I am not a commander, Cassandra. I do not issue orders. Believe it or not, I cannot have you punished if you disobey me.”

“Then…”

“You always have a choice.”

She frowned, discomfited. “You say that, but then you will nag me and lecture at me until I feel as if I have no choice.”

“Then you need to build up resistance to wheedling. That can also be learned.”

“What you said was an example in itself.”

“If you’re that aware of it, then perhaps you don’t need to after all.”

“Are you trying to convince me to go or are you not?”

“It depends,” she said, and smiled. “Which would you prefer?”

She made an irritated noise, and then thrust her sword into the ground, by the dummies. “I will not refuse an opportunity to learn, but if you must insist, then I ask that you avoid trying to provoke me.”

“I will try,” Josephine said, “but I can’t always know what will upset you, and what won’t.”

“Then it appears that you will have something to learn from me as well.”

“With that settled…” said Josephine, and looked at her. “When can you come?”

“I am not the one with the busy schedule. When are you free to see me?”

“Tomorrow. No, wait.” She had to think about it. “The day after? I’m not so sure, actually; the Inquisitor decides these things on a whim…”

“Just leave a note on my desk,” Cassandra said. “I will come, if I am able.”

 

* * *

 

After a surprisingly attrition-free meeting with a Fereldan baron and baroness whose marriage had turned sour, Josephine settled in to her office to write letters for Cassandra’s campaign. The day had started out pleasant so far, and she had a feeling that it would continue as such.

Then she saw a body emerge from underneath the sofa.

Josephine bolted up in shock. “Sera!” How did she even manage to fit under those things? “What were you doing under there? Maker, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Nothin’. Just lookin’,” she said, casually approaching her desk. “More importantly, Leliana says you need blackmail for the madame.”

“Yes,” she said, slowly settling back down. “Could you offer any assistance?”

“Depends on what you’re offerin’. You want to know about her sex life, I’m sure there’s plenty about her sex life. Celene’s on worse terms with Briala now, though; I don’t know how much fishin’ that stuff up is gonna help you.”

“And what about your friends?”

“My friends’ll help no matter what, long as you’re tryin’ to make her look stupid. Leliana said you might want the information to… influence a few friends.” Sera leaned on her desk, propped up on her elbows. “I just don’t know what’d be useful, that’s all.”

“Anything, at this point,” she said. “I’ll sort it all out later.”

“Well…” Sera stood up. “All right, let’s see what we’ve got. Malmaisy’s into the tough leathery types—women, obviously, but the stronger kind—like Adeline in _Swords and Shields_.”

“You read _Swords and Shields_?”

“After seeing how Cassandra eats it up, why not? Writing’s shite, though. Varric can do a lot better. Anyway, the madame’s into really… puffed-up facades, you know. Like…” She paused for a moment. “Like, when someone pretends they’re hot shit, but once you get to know ‘em better, they’re all insecure about it and stuff.”

“That’s about the long and short of it, regarding Cassandra.”

“Yeah, but the worst part is she takes advantage of it. I dunno if you read Cassandra’s letters, but apparently her whole deal is that she starts out faking admiration and then tricks them into doing whatever she tells ‘em to. Originally Cassandra was using the Inquisition to avoid her, but then she caught up with her.”

“That was… not my intention, but that seems to be what my invitation has led to.”

Sera slapped her hands on the desk. “It’s creepy, is what it is! She takes these people who’ve done nothing to her and turns them into her little puppets. All shitty mind games, like what you do, only worse. People gossip that it’s blood magic. But you want her for the elections, so I don’t know how much I can do.”

“If it were up to me, I’d at least force her into the Inquisition’s service.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like we can mind her all the time. If she keeps doing this weird shit, it’s not like we’ll always know. If you want her around for the elections, then fine, but I want her gone after Cassandra’s made Divine.”

“Those are your terms?”

“Not like you can give me anything but hot air,” Sera said, sourly. She stepped away from the desk. “I’ll talk more with Leliana about it, but I’m not lettin’ her go after all this.”

“Anything else I should know about her, Sera?”

“She might be controlling, but she’s into pain, like Iron Bull is.” She paced around the room, restless. “Dishes it out and takes it all the same. Probably into leather and whips and ropes and shite. She wants Cassandra to hit her as badly as he does.”

Josephine’s neutral expression started to fade a bit. “And you know this because…?”

She headed for the door, toward the main hall. “Read the letters, Josie. They’re purple, like the color of your dress.”

 

* * *

 

 She was not going to read Cassandra’s private correspondence without her permission, although she doubted that Sera, at least, had been granted her explicit consent. Either way, she doubted that Malmaison’s deviant sexual behavior would be an appropriate topic for polite conservation. The blood magic worried her, though. She would need to consult someone about it, if only to let Leliana know what to expect.

There was also the matter of what Cassandra knew about her—whether Sera and Leliana had told her all of this already, or if she had been aware of this from reading the letters, or if she had bothered to read her letters at all. Most likely, Josephine thought, Cassandra had been too ashamed to read them all the way through, and wrote her replies after barely skimming them.

She stared at the note she had been halfway through writing and sighed. The persistent influence of people like Malmaison only confirmed Cassandra and Sera’s revulsion toward the Game. Crude as Sera was, she was only hoping to right wrongs that had existed for ages. The nobles and merchants and people in power traded favors and blackmail and assassinations, and everyone else was trampled underfoot. It was unpleasant, and unfair. But that was life.

She put her pen to parchment, and then picked it up again. Her mind was blank.

She needed a walk.

Somehow, after a few minutes of aimless wandering, she found herself outside in the courtyard, surrounded by Inquisition workers, Mother Giselle, and… Morrigan. The Chasind was sitting on a bench, flipping through a dog-eared tome and apparently minding her own business. Then it clicked.

Morrigan had been the arcane adviser to Empress Celene. She had been there. She must have known something.

“Lady Morrigan,” Josephine said, approaching her. “I need to ask you about something. Someone, rather.”

“Well,” said Morrigan, “take a seat, then, and speak.”

“I need to know about Madame de Malmaison.”

“Oh.” Her lips lifted just a fraction. “Malmaison. You must have heard about her illicit magic use, then, to be bringing it up with me.”

“Does she?”

“Malmaison is second only to Empress Celene in terms of raw social influence. She can do whatever she likes, and no one will criticize it for it, for she is a most prominent figure at court. But you intend to do something about her, do you not?”

“She has… put Cassandra in a very compromising situation. If we do not resolve this, then we cannot make her Divine.”

“I see. Do you plan to do away with her entirely?”

“I do not, though I am not the one in charge of the situation, personally. I do need information on her, however. If Leliana is doing what I think she is going to do, it will put a strain on our relationship with the Orlesian court.”

“Unless you can convince the court that Malmaison did not deserve to be there in the first place. She certainly has her flaws, if that is what you wanted to know.”

“I am somewhat aware of her flaws, yes. I was wondering if you had any anecdotes—anything I could bring up around other Orlesian nobles.”

“Blackmail?”

“More or less.”

“This would be easier had she and Celene still been seeing each other while I was her adviser. No matter. I believe… Malmaison had Nevarran apostates in her service? Or she married one?”

“That’s Dowager Beauharnais, actually.”

“An easy mistake to make.” She paused, furrowing her brow. “Ah, here’s something: Malmaison… experiments.”

“She experiments?”

“She is deeply interested in using magic to alter the mind. For pleasure, or for pain, or for any other sensation she can muster. Magic to her is as much entertainment as investment. Her expenditures are reckless; she abuses her power as much as she feels she can. She helps to keep Celene in power, so Celene turns a blind eye. Although people gossip, they cannot stand against her. The madame craves attention. Take advantage of her hubris, and you will have her cornered.” Morrigan stared at her levelly. “‘Tis a pattern you are familiar with, I would assume.”

“So it’s true that she uses blood magic.”

Morrigan smiled. “When does that rumor ever turn out to be false? Few can resist the temptation.”

Josephine shook her head. This was all too much. “At least Cassandra is immune to magical mind control. The psychological kind she is still vulnerable to, I’m afraid. It sounds like our madame has established quite the reputation for herself.”

“I am more surprised you knew this little about her, Ambassador. You are typically better informed than that.”

“I tend to avoid the more sexual gossip, for personal reasons. I have now realized my error,” she said, peevishly.

“That is all you wished to know?”

“It will be enough, for now.” Josephine stood up. “Thank you for your time, Lady Morrigan. I believe I will be able to make some use of this.”

 

* * *

 

Cassandra came by her office the next day, and for once Josephine was loathe to see her.

“I heard about the plans you made with Leliana,” she said, looming over her desk. Cassandra looked taller today. Despite her constant presence, it was a detail that she hardly ever noticed.

“Sera told you, didn’t she? I know you’re friends with her.”

“Sera has little patience for your machinations. I convinced her that your methods are worth the extra time, but she is eager to see the madame destroyed.”

“I’ve been making good progress. I’ve informed a few notables in the Orlesian court of the Inquisition’s… awareness of Malmaison’s scheming, and those few, at least, will be sure to help. Tell Sera to relax. Her time will come.”

“Then we can stop discussing this?” Cassandra asked, testily. “I tire of hearing the madame’s name.”

“Another lesson, then?”

“Anything else, as long as it has nothing to do with… sadism and bondage.” She looked to the side in disgust. “Honestly, I don’t understand how you can tolerate this kind of conversation. You talk yourself into circles, Lady Josephine.”

“Is that what you believe?”

“Ever since I agreed to take these lessons from you, I have been having more prolonged conversations than I have ever had in my life. It’s exhausting.”

“You think things will be any different as the Divine?”

“I suppose I ought to brace myself to be wretchedly bored as the Divine.”

“Tedium is a large part of it, yes. You will have no interest in many of the matters brought to your attention, but you will have to deal with them anyway,” she said, looking at her. “It would be prudent to approach the ordeal with tolerance, and the awareness that boredom is not what the job is actually about.”

“I want to do good, but I didn’t think it would involve so much… _frivolousness_.” She tensed. “And Malmaison is so disturbed,” she said, sweeping her hand out, “and yet you insist on her help. It’s complete and utter nonsense; this is not the way business should have to be conducted. We should not have to put ourselves at the mercy of sexual deviants and self-obsessed strangers for the sake of helping others.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Cassandra, but it hardly reflects reality.”

“Reality is abhorrent.” She folded her arms. “You would not know the injustices I observed as the Right Hand of the Divine. It is shameful that we allow ourselves to hurt each other like this. It’s selfish.”

“And I agree. But not everyone sees reason with as much clarity and conviction as you do—as much as I, and many others, would prefer them to. My job is to smooth out rough edges, to ensure our good standing. I hope you understand what I’m trying to accomplish.”

“I have complete respect for your station, Lady Josephine, but I tire of these florid speeches.”

“Yet you participate in them.”

“What else can I do? I can’t change your mind any other way.”

“Then you agree that it is right to have patience and to put up with the maddening quirks of other people, if it will help you arrive at a solution.”

“I think it’s absurd.”

“So you would prefer brute force and violence over peaceful means?”

“If we cannot trust people to be honest, then anything is preferable over lies and misdirection. I just—ugh. I…” She grimaced. “I don’t know. I suppose that’s what it is; I do not know. I am frustrated, and I am tired. Corypheus’s plans are ridiculous. I have no real desire to become the Divine, but I want to make changes. I tolerate you because I respect you, but all I can see you as is a pawn. A toady. A sycophant, only interested in pleasing others. It’s… It’s endless.” Cassandra looked at her helplessly. “You have done nothing to earn my ire, and yet every time I look at you I dread the next words that will come out of your mouth.”

“You’re stressed,” Josephine said. “That makes plenty of sense, considering what kind of person you are. You should find a way to decompress.”

“I do.”

“You punch trees.”

“It helps.”

She sighed. “Better a tree than a man, I suppose was your logic?”

“Must you really criticize every move I make?”

“I’m trying to help you.”

“But why do you believe you know what is best for me?” She approached the desk with sudden vexation. “We have nothing in common; you don’t understand my work at all.”

Josephine shifted in her seat. “I could say the same for you.”

“I’ve tried!”

“We have hardly even started.”

“And we may not continue, if you continue to belittle me! Respect what I am trying to do. Respect who I am.”

“Cassandra, you’re the one who—”

“I cannot be you; I cannot have your kind of patience. I do not see the good in others that you see. I see only corruption and the unwillingness to do anything about it.”

“You’re incorrigible,” she sighed, slouching. “I have never met anyone who was so intelligent and yet so lacking in restraint.”

“You hate me.”

“I do not.”

“You have done nothing but criticize me from the very beginning. You must find fault with me.”

“Finding fault with you is not the same as disliking you, Cassandra,” she said, undaunted. Then she straightened up. “And I must say, I do not hate you in the least.”

Cassandra stared at her like a wary animal. “Then you approve of me?”

So intelligent, so lacking in restraint, and so… simple. “Is that all it takes? A few words of acknowledgment, and you’ll be placated?”

She hesitated. “I wonder.”

“If that is all it takes, then I worry about your relationship prospects.”

“That is beside the point, Lady Josephine,” she said, eyeing her.

“I have been told that you are weak to flattery,” she continued, trying to hide the smile growing on her face. “And to romance and pretty words.”

“What of it?”

Her smile, which reached up to her eyes, had become entirely self-satisfied at this point. “That is what you need to practice. You are stiff and you are awkward, but you’re fascinated with the idea of worldliness. You don’t feel that it’s appropriate for you to take part in it, so you are content to admire it from afar. You are in love with the idea of love. It is your greatest weakness.”

“Now that you are done analyzing me, what is your point?”

“You cannot be so interested in romance, for one. It makes you too gullible.” She paused. “You need to learn to be more sophisticated.”

“No. I have no desire to learn how to lie and flaunt my deception.”

“That won’t necessarily be the case. If you can learn to read the signs, then you may be able to avoid lying altogether. It will strengthen your convictions, nothing more.”

She frowned. “I don’t like the sound of this.”

“The willingness to be emotionally available to others is a strength, Cassandra, not a weakness. If you learn to read the difference between honesty and manipulation, and handle the result with grace, then perhaps you will never have to fear another like Malmaison again.”

“Preposterous,” she said, but she was at a loss. She stayed quiet for a long time. “You have given me much to think about,” she said, staring at the desk. Then she looked up at her. “I suppose we shall see what happens next.”


	3. Advice From a Seeker

Cassandra directed most of her vitriol toward Leliana that evening, in the rookery.

“You let Sera read my letters?” Cassandra asked, making angry strides about the floor. “You allowed that thief access to my private correspondence? Are you insane?”

“I didn’t allow Sera to do anything.” Leliana watched her from her seat by the desk, in a decidedly relaxed position. “She broke into the rookery the other morning and took them for herself. You should be grateful that she was polite enough to put them back.”

“I should have burned them. They’re… Those were not meant to be read by anyone other than you and myself.” She stopped pacing. “They’re shameful, Leliana. They’ll ruin me!”

“Not if you don’t let them,” she said.

She clenched her teeth. “Josephine knew about Malmaison. She knew that she never had my best interests at heart. She should never have invited her here. It doesn’t matter how influential Malmaison is, she will do nothing but try to destroy me.”

“Let us take care of it, Cassandra. You have more pressing concerns.”

“Josephine wants to teach me how to flirt, and Sera and Dorian agree with her,” she went on. “Everyone’s priorities have been confused.”

“She what?”

“Josephine,” she said again, walking toward her, “thinks that she can remedy the problem by teaching me how to behave in high society. She thinks that teaching me to feign complaisance is essential to my becoming the Divine.”

“Josephine may be right, in all honesty,” said Leliana. “Justinia was exceptionally gracious.”

“I never claimed to be her replacement.”

“But you will succeed her, if the Inquisitor’s plans go through. Some will want to see you as her replacement.”

“Do not,” Cassandra said, her voice low. “I wouldn’t expect you to agree with… with Josephine. I know you two are friends, but your methods could not be more dissimilar. You have no reservations about this?”

“I am worried about how you’re getting along with her,” she said, furrowing her brow. “But no, I don’t think she’s wrong to try to make you more courteous.”

“You have changed vastly since Valence.” The tension in her shoulders settled. She would win no battles here.

“Be glad I’m not trying to compete with you.” Her eyes twinkled. “You are lucky to have been given this chance. Don’t spoil it, or you may see me trying to take your place.”

“I’ll admit that your devotion to the Chantry was never in question,” Cassandra said, still on edge. “I may have to take you up on your offer.”

“No. Not when everyone is already trying to help you.”

“We have barely even started, and I tire of meeting with Josephine.” Her voice was diffident. “Between Malmaison and her goading, I…” She hesitated and looked at her. “You know,” she said, finally. “How I felt.”

“You still feel the same way now?” Leliana sat up.

“It would be pathetic for me to admit it now.”

“Cassandra…”

“You have known me the longest. That is why I trust you,” she said, and now the words were coming faster. “If Sera read them, then she must have some sense.”

“Did she discuss them with you?”

“She did not betray what she had learned. We are friends. She is not so insensitive as that. But this has been going on for years. I don’t know how many more times I’ll have to refuse Malmaison before she finally gives up on me.”

“I don’t think she’s the type to give up, rather.” Leliana stood up. “You still…”

“I don’t know why I didn’t have them destroyed,” she said bitterly. “I am mad to have kept them. I am in love.”

“You’re not in love.” Leliana took a step toward her. “Especially not with someone like that.”

“Then what what you call it?” Cassandra looked in her direction, but did not make eye contact. “Lust? Fixation? Depravity?”

“You have done nothing wrong, Cassandra,” she said, and looked at her hard, like a warning.

“But you know why I responded the way I did. Why I didn’t ignore her. I felt… I needed to, I—”

“Then Josephine has a point. You’re not as immune to her advances are you think you are.”

“She knows me like a demon would,” Cassandra said, pained. “It’s horrifying! How can someone who doesn’t even know me… How can she make me feel like this?”

“Perhaps she is no stranger to demons.” Leliana walked up to her. “So long as you’re with us, she can’t hurt you. And if she sends you any more letters? Burn them in the forge. We’ll say you’re busy on Inquisition business. You can’t see her if Corypheus wins and everyone is dead.”

“I am loathe to seem this helpless around you,” Cassandra muttered.

“On the contrary,” she said, smiling, “this happens so rarely that I’m a little glad that it happened. You push yourself so hard that I worry it’ll be the death of you one day.”

“You have more important things to worry about,” Cassandra said, and her voice regained its edge. “And you ought to know better than to be concerned.”

“Hm?” The smile persisted.

“Your eyes follow me everywhere. Sometimes I wonder if it is you that I should fear more than Malmaison.”

“Oh,” said Leliana. “I’m flattered.”

She shook her head, gripped the edge of Leliana’s desk, could feel the spymaster’s eyes on her. “I need to… Maker’s breath, this is ludicrous.”

“You need to train?” she suggested.

“I need to train.” She propped herself up from the desk, noisily, and excused herself out of the rookery. “And I do not know when I will stop.”

 

* * *

 

Cassandra was not weak. She was proud of that fact, and immensely so. Many times, she could cover her weaknesses with her strengths, place a bandage over an open wound. She would not mention Malmaison around Josephine today. Though the wound may not heal, she would not let it bleed. She would not allow herself to be shaken.

“Mercy, you’re here,” said Josephine, in the main hall, when Cassandra sought her out the next morning. “Help me make preparations for our guests.” She handed her a goblet.

“The lessons…?”

“Can wait. This cannot. We have thirty distinguished mouths to feed at lunch and everyone else is so tied up in the Arbor Wilds that they could not possibly think to help. I am alone.” She folded a napkin with nimble fingers, set it atop a plate. “As I expected.”

“Are you all right, Lady Josephine?”

A smile tugged at her lips. “I am. I will be. This is normal for me,” she said, scurrying around the table. “I do not stress the same way you do. If I am upset, you will know it.”

Cassandra set out the remaining cups and plates with trepidation, but Josephine seemed to appreciate her clumsy help. “Who is visiting?”

“Some Orlesian troops from the Exalted Plains. Operations have been going well over there, so we’re giving the lucky ones a reward.” She looked relaxed, wholly in her element. Cassandra had to remind herself that Josephine was as much hostess as diplomat, when it came to organizing events at Skyhold. “Ah, I feel as if it’s been so long since we’ve thrown one of these luncheons. We’re breaking out the good wine. Perhaps you should come.”

“I… No. I have things I must do.”

“That is unfortunate. Given the way things have been going, I’d figured you at least needed a break.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I cannot.”

Josephine looked at her, and there was something off about her expression.

“What is it?”

She frowned all of a sudden. “I only wish I could do more.” Something caught her eye on the table, a stray fork or some trinket out of place. “For you, I mean.” She set the item back where it needed to be. “I am here to make everyone’s lives more pleasant, yourself included, Cassandra. I fuss because I care.”

“Yes,” she said. “I can see that.” Josephine was all excitement, a ball of nervous energy. What was it like to be the sociable sort, she wondered, to take delight in entertaining other people?

“I hope so.” She kept staring at the dishes on the table. How perfect could one table setting be? “I know I have been troubling you as of late.”

“Maybe I will… accompany you later,” Cassandra said, awkwardly. “For a walk, or something leisurely. I think we both deserve it.”

She smiled at her, and all at once her concerns over Malmaison disappeared. “Of course. I would love to.”

 

* * *

 

She spent the rest of her morning discussing troop movements in the Emprise with Cullen. Inquisition soldiers would go there to observe progress, and hopefully to stem the red lyrium trade there and wherever else it was circulating. There was the Storm Coast, the Western Approach, the Emerald Graves—there must have been others, too, and it seemed that none of them ever truly ceased.

The routine pleased her, made her calm again. For a few hours, everything almost seemed… normal. She was scheduled to go out into the Emprise in two weeks along with the others, where hopefully she would have no reason to encounter Malmaison again. If she did, she was worried that she wouldn’t have the self-control to not surrender her to the Red Templars.

Then, all too soon, she saw Josephine. They walked along the battlements as dusk drew near, and the air was agreeably crisp.

Honestly, she wondered what else they had to talk about.

“Are you and Sera good friends?” Josephine asked, cautiously, as if she could see the disapproval on Cassandra’s face. “She speaks highly of you.”

“She is nosy,” she said, frowning. “But she is remarkably sensitive. She feels for those who are suffering—for the impoverished. And she is sympathetic to those who would see that suffering as an injustice.”

Josephine walked a little ahead of her, and Cassandra slowed to match her pace. “So it sounds like you two have at least that much in common.”

“I suppose it seems as if my tolerance for her antics is exceptionally high. Though I have worked with Leliana for several years by now.”

“Yes. That is something that _we_ have in common,” said Josephine. “Leliana is… something else, I’ll give her that. Clever, perhaps, but also mischievous—and you would never guess from looking at her, nowadays.”

“That makes it easier for her to evade detection,” Cassandra offered.

She considered it. “That makes sense. If she gives off the impression of being unquestionably sober, then no one will suspect her when she festoons the courtyard with my undergarments.”

“That was her doing?”

“Who else, Cassandra?”

Cassandra blushed, all of a sudden. “Where did she even find the time to do that?”

“Perhaps it was not her, but one of her underlings. I would be perfectly content to remain in the dark regarding that matter. Moving on…” Josephine paused and looked at her. “There is the matter of you.”

“What about me?” she asked.

“Everything. Between Corypheus, Malmaison, trying to win the Sunburst Throne, Sera’s unsolicited inquiries into your private affairs, and my nagging you about being more socially acceptable, you must have had it quite hard these past few weeks.” Josephine’s speech was mellifluous. It mesmerized her. “I believe that I am at least partially to blame for your distress.”

“How much do you know?”

“About what, exactly?”

“My disposition.”

“Only as much as you’re willing to disclose,” Josephine said, watching her carefully. “Unlike everyone else, it seems, I have not read your letters. I do not know what you wrote to Malmaison—only that you did, multiple times, and that the result seems to have disturbed you.”

“You wish to ease my discomfort?”

“Yes. It may be part of my job, but it pains me to know that I am at fault for bringing this to light.” She paused, then looked at her again. “I’m sorry, Cassandra. For once I wish I had not made things so complicated.”

“You did not know,” she said.

“Yes, but…” She sighed. “It was so careless of me! I thought I had everything under control when I obviously didn’t. I should have thought to ask you first. It’s just that she holds so much power…”

“I accept your apology, Lady Josephine.”

“You don’t want to talk about this right now, do you?” she said, suddenly. “You came here for a pleasant chat.”

“I did, but it seems that we do not have much in common.”

“Which is a shame, because from what I have heard you are quite a gracious person to be around.”

She balked. “According to whom?”

“Many people. Such as our companions—Cullen, Blackwall, Iron Bull, Vivienne, Sera… And of course Leliana. They all have immense respect for your position. On top of which, they happen to like you, if word around Skyhold is any indication. Even Varric has a certain fondness for you, in his own particular way. Really, there’s hardly a person I can think of who outright dislikes you.”

“I see.” She didn’t know what to make of that. “What did you want to know?”

“What are your interests?”

“Other than lurid romance novels and glaring my way through life? I don’t believe I have that many.”

She chuckled. “That’s at least a start.”

“You’re the better speaker. What would you tell me about yourself?”

“What? Oh, I don’t know,” she said, coyly. “You are aware of what I do for the Inquisition, yes? I make deals and write letters and drive bargains and mediate between people who may or may not have the Inquisition’s best interests at heart. I am also in charge of seeing that the quarters for both our personnel and our honored guests are attended to, and organize gatherings and social events around Skyhold. When I have time to myself, I occasionally read or take walks. Though most of the time I find myself planning what I’m going to do next. I do not find it particularly energizing to be alone.”

“I can tell,” said Cassandra.

Josephine smiled, turned on her heel so that she was facing her. “You’re really quite something yourself—if you don’t mind my saying. I don’t mean to pry, but you and Leliana are both distinctly secretive. A quirk of the Divine Hands, perhaps?”

“If you already know about my past in Nevarra and the whole ordeal with Divine Beatrix, I doubt I have managed to keep much from you.”

“Not in that sense. Personality wise, I mean. Someone who’s so straightforward should not be so hard to read.”

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. “You are beginning to pry, Josephine.”

“I have been… thinking about you lately,” she admitted, not without reservation. “I have had to, for the sake of convincing others to support you as the Divine. I realized that I know hardly anything about you—your personal history, certainly, but nothing about the way you act, or the things that you like. Your goals and ambitions, why so many people seem to be enamored with you…”

“They are not.”

“You are the only one who believes that, I assure you.”

“Then perhaps it’s because I am physically attractive.”

“That isn’t all of it.”

“I apparently have no personal stake in anything that I choose to do.”

Josephine looked surprised. “You don’t, do you?”

“I claim to be selfless, but anyone who knows anything about human nature would know that isn’t true,” Cassandra continued. “I’m aware of that.”

“Then what does motivate you?”

“I’m not obligated to answer that.”

“I suppose not. I was hoping your response might help me convince others of your worth, but I cannot force you to tell me anything.” She paused and looked at her. “Still, speculation only goes so far.”

Cassandra eyed her levelly. “Is this another one of your lessons, Josephine?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you are insufferable.”

“I…” Josephine looked away. “I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?” she said, and laughed dryly. “I don’t know what came over me, I…”

“You are trying to do something, and you do not know why?” said Cassandra.

“I…” She paused, opened her mouth, then closed again. “No. You’re right. I do not.”

“Glad to see that I’m not the only one, then,” she said, and smiled a bit.

Her brow furrowed. “Cassandra…”

“It is OK not to know, sometimes. Advice from a Seeker of Truth.”

Josephine blinked at her, and then took a moment to recompose herself. “And you believe that,” she said.

“You have your doubts?”

“I take back what I said about you before.” She walked over toward the edge of the parapets, stared over the length of Skyhold. “You would make an excellent player of the Game. For all that you are quick to dismiss our dealings, your awareness is much more sophisticated than you let on.”

“I do not care for games. Not when those in charge could use their time for so much better.”

She turned around. “But they won’t listen to you because you refuse to play by their rules, so you take up your sword and impress your ideals upon them by force.”

“I know you are averse to the concept, but sometimes it is necessary.”

She frowned, discomfited. “I think I understand you now. You are not some lost soul looking for forgiveness from the Maker. You are a pragmatist and a soldier. Ultimately, and despite whatever misgivings you might have about your choices, you still think in absolutes.”

Cassandra didn’t know whether to be impressed or not. “You deduced all of that about me how?”

“You said it yourself: you are a Seeker of Truth who is content to not know everything. You imagine a world that you’re comfortable living in, but you’re convinced that it will never become reality, so you’ve given up on being pleasant. You aren’t open to the possibility of impossibility.”

“And you are?”

Josephine smiled and began walking toward her again. “For one, I try to avoid thinking in terms of black and white. No two people are the same, so you shouldn’t expect their priorities to line up, either. I bargain with them—I compromise. Oftentimes I fail, but that does not deter me from trying again. I talk to many people and make many small choices. It is thankless, tedious, endless work—but yes. I am. See the world as gloomy and irredeemable if you must. I will continue to see it as bright and full of promise.”

“I wish I could see it the same way.”

“That is your choice, no? Being the closeted romantic that you are.”

“Occasionally I do,” Cassandra said, and she felt as if a weight had lifted from her chest. “But only on certain days of the month, when I am in the mood for it, and no one has managed to offend me yet.” She smiled a little. “So, really, never, I suppose.”

Josephine laughed. It was a pleasant laugh, soothing to the ears. “Fair enough. I will see what I can do to keep you in that particular mood.”

 

* * *

 

The days passed by remarkably quickly after that. Josephine was careful not to bring up Malmaison, either because Leliana had instructed her to avoid the topic or because she understood that Cassandra no longer wanted to discuss the matter of her. What were meant to pass as lessons, however, took the form of more casual conversations. Eventually Cassandra understood them to be no more than meetings between friends. As they continued to talk, their discussions became more intimate and less political, but no less productive. She was learning. They were learning. And she enjoyed them.

It was helpful to know how Josephine thought, why she operated the way she did, and why her methods were useful. She possessed seemingly endless amounts of patience for the most aggravating of habits and preferences, knew what to say and what to avoid saying, learned how to impress with nothing more than a few words and gestures. Cassandra admired her, even. She had a new friend. She was even beginning to forget about Malmaison.

Alas, she could not hope to be that lucky.

After a long day of training and preparations for the Emprise excursion, Cassandra retired to her loft.

“So I hear you and Josephine’ve been getting cozy.”

She looked up, and Sera hung down from the rafters by her knees, hanging upside down like a bat. “If you want me to talk to you, then get down from there first.”

Sera dropped down and rolled until she was standing upright. “This all part of your grand plan? To become Divine, I mean. Kissin’ up to the ambassador?”

Cassandra opened her mouth, and then closed it again.

She knew where this conversation was headed.

“Whatever you’re thinking, Sera, you are wrong.”

“I weren’t thinkin’ about nothin’. I dunno what was going through your head.”

She folded her arms. “Then what is this about?”

She shrugged. “Just curious, is all. Not like anybody’s ever seen you two talking much before, so it was kind of a novel thing. I’m not judgin’.”

“You have no questions of your own?”

“No. Well. Maybe. Yes,” she said. “I read your letters.”

“I know. And I wish you would have asked first.”

“You weren’t lettin’ me read ‘em.”

“If you needed them for a Red Jenny operation, then I might have let you.”

“Yeah. Might’ve. Not ‘was gonna.’” Sera blinked at her. “So you’re queer, right? Into ladybits?”

“Sera…”

“Or are you just into Malmaisy’s fancy bullshite? She turn you on? Make you think inappropriate thoughts?”

“I am not—”

“But I don’t blame you for bein’ into that stuff. I mean, lookit you. Surprised that you don’t have more scars. Well, scars that I can see, at least. And I’ve checked in other places. Yeah?”

Cassandra frowned.

“You’ve got… urges,” Sera continued. “Bad ones. Smack some demons around, you’re OK for a while. But then they come back, and demons aren’t enough. You’ve fought, what, dragons? If a dragon isn’t enough, then maybe that’s not the kind of smacking around you need to do.” She cocked her head. “Do you want to be smacked around? ‘S that it?”

“No, I do not.”

“That’s not what you told her.”

“It was a moment of weakness.”

“Then you do,” Sera argued. “Did, at least. Don’t lie.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Bet you haven’t told Josie yet.”

“She doesn’t need to know.”

“You think you can hide it from her forever?” She grinned. “Josie’s good at findin’ that stuff out. Imagine the look on her face when she finds out how repressed you are.”

Cassandra flushed. “You will not tell her.”

“I don’t need to tell her. She’ll figure it out for herself. I’ve faith in her. All I’m saying is that Josie’s nice—but she’s scary because of what she can do, and if you upset her, she’s not gonna be so scary anymore, and that’s bad for the Inquisition. You gonna go on bein’ friendly with her, you gotta own up to it.” Sera strode up to her, until they were but a few paces apart. She opened her mouth and then closed it, frustrated. “Look, I used to think you were a decent sort, all right? But Malmaisy’s a bitch and you shouldn’t let her get to you like that. And now you’re bein’ all cushy with Josephine, and it’s weird. Like I don’t know you anymore.”

“Are you… upset?” Sera tended to speak in riddles, almost as much as Cole did. She hoped she was at least in the vicinity of correct.

“I’m pissed off, is what I am. It’s just… You’re… You seemed so sure of yourself, and I liked that. And now you’re hidin’ all this weird shit from your friends, and I dunno what to make of it. You should let her know, at least,” she said, looking away. “Don’t keep her in the dark. You’re not protectin’ her from shite, that way.”

“I do not know how she would take it,” Cassandra said. “But I will keep your advice in mind.”

“Rubbish,” Sera spat, defiant. “You won’t tell her nothin’.” She headed for the stairs. “Maybe I should save you the effort, yeah? Lady Cassandra Whatever Pentaghast.”

“Sera—”

But she was gone before Cassandra could finish. Instead, she went and sat down on her lone chair in her loft above the forge, and sighed.

She had urges, Sera had said. “Bad” ones. Worse than allowing herself to be angry. Worse than reading awful romance novels. Worse than employing a nearly suicidal fighting style in combat? Perhaps not. But just as harmful. It wasn’t healthy to want to hurt someone, or be hurt, or be aroused by either, regardless of how much Isadora tried to convince Adeline in _Swords and Shields_ otherwise.

But Sera was right. The deeper Josephine investigated, the more likely she was to find out. If Sera felt that she needed to know, then by the Maker, she would learn about it eventually.

“Shit! Bollocks!” She heard a series of thumps as Sera clambered up the stairs, and then the elf rushed to hide behind her. “I take back everything I said; just hide me!”

“Sera…?”

“Shh, pipe down!”

They were both quiet for a few moments.

She turned. “I believe the danger has passed.”

Sera sidled around her chair until she was facing her, flush with exertion. “Nightingale’s crows are gonna eat me alive one of these days, I swear.”

“Leliana is trying to find you?”

“This is your fault, you big dyke. Malmaison might not be here anymore, but Leliana’s painted a big red target on her shiny arse and everyone’s gettin’ involved. She keeps draggin’ me to these fiddly meetings to ‘discuss our options,’” she grumbled. “I’m not looking for talk. I’m looking for action.”

“You are involved in the operation then, I’m assuming.”

“Yeah. One chance’s good as any to take a bad one down. And Nightingale’s sneaky, like a real rogue. She knows I’m not listenin’, though. Stupid friggin’ meetings are a waste of everyone’s time.”

“Not everyone has as much free time as you, you know. For some it is the only chance they have to speak with her.”

“Josie tell you to say that?”

“No.”

“Shut it. I know you’re just lookin’ for some tongue action with the ambassador. Bet she works it good, after wagging it all day.”

Cassandra made to stand up. “Are we done here, Sera?”

“Most probably. I’ve got friends down in the Emprise, but not many. If Nightingale wants help, she’s got it, but it’ll be on our terms, not hers.”

“Which are?”

“We don’t give a frig about Malmaison’s reputation. I know Josie doesn’t like it like that, but people need to know what she’s done. Specially when the people she’s hurt can’t defend themselves. I don’t care much whether you become the Divine, so maybe we won’t be as careful as you’d like, but if you really deserve it then it won’t matter whether one pissy madame takes a hit. Got it?” Sera glared at her.

“Do you know what Leliana intends to do?”

“Far as I know? Plant some evidence where people can see it, and then blackmail her into dropping the whole business with you, or it goes out. My friends won’t get involved unless the plan goes bust, but with you headed into the Emprise now, we might not have a choice. Woman like that tangling with the Red Templars… Who knows, maybe she’s got the Blight now too.”

Cassandra scowled and sat back down. “I pray it does not come to that.”

“An’ I know you’re stupid about these things,” said Sera, “but try not to lead Josie on. I’ve seen the way she looks at you sometimes. Not a good look.”

“Come again?”

She sneered. “Don’t tell me I need to explain to Missus Tall, Dark And Angry why a woman’s making cow eyes at her.”

Cassandra stared at her.

Sera sighed. “She’s got it for you, dumb arse. Bad? Probably not. But she sneaks ‘em where she can, those glances. Like she wants somethin’ she can’t have. Like you. Like _you_ like you.” She paused, and then groaned. “Ugh, it’s like I’m livin’ in one of your shoddy picture books! Bloody rubbish…” She scuffed a heel against the floor, then sidled toward the stairs. “I should leave before you feel like hitting something, shouldn't I?”

Another series of thumps, and Cassandra wished she had never let her hide here in the first place. 

Dear, sweet Andraste, why?

 

* * *

 

Josephine either did not notice or was too polite to mention when Cassandra began to avoid her, and she supposed she should be thankful for that as the date of the excursion drew near. The thought made her miserable, though. She hated when women were attracted to her, and she hated turning them down. Though Josephine had never been romantically involved with Leliana, she knew that she shared her preferences. She did not expect Josephine to be interested in her, however. She did not expect to be unintentionally charming. She needed to learn how not to be, eventually.

The day before she left for the Emprise, Josephine asked to see her off. Sera’s words bored like a corkscrew into the back of her mind.

“So you are headed to the Emprise du Lion tomorrow,” Josephine said. “You will be sorely missed.”

They sat in the courtyard, beneath the colonnades, where the sun hung proud and distant in the sky. As with much of Skyhold since the assault on the Arbor Wilds, the courtyard felt deserted. There was not a single person in it today, apart from the two of them.

“I will only be gone for a fortnight at most.”

“A fortnight is quite long, Cassandra.”

“Then shorter, perhaps, if everything goes as smoothly as planned. Corypheus’s forces are weakening. He is desperate. The Inquisitor has made substantial progress in uniting our troops against him.” Cassandra looked at her. “Though I worry that he will not be content to wait.”

“Aha,” she laughed, nervously. Her voice pitched. “I certainly hope not. We pretend that it could never happen, knowing that victory lies so close, and yet… One wrong move could spell failure for the entire world.”

“Pessimism does not suit you.”

She tried for a smile. “I understand. If only I could be like you and punch the stress out of my system—not that I find your methods barbaric, I simply lack your kind of strength. Else, I would have probably tried to do it by now.” She tucked an idle strand of hair behind her ear.

“You’re nervous?”

“How could I not be? I have to pretend as if everything is going perfectly well when Corypheus could strike at any moment. It was… It was easier when matters were more complicated, if that makes any sense. I had other things to worry about then. Now, I do not.” She sighed. “Now that we have reached the top, it seems that the only direction left to go is down.”

“Certainly not. The Inquisition will continue to gain power and influence for as long as it is active.”

“At least one of us is positive about all of this.” She stood up. “Let us walk.”

The question thrummed in her ear. Had Sera been telling the truth? Was Josephine truly interested in her in that way? She was suddenly aware of her in a way she had not been before—nervous, flighty, all too tempted to excuse herself on the basis of some imaginary meeting that she had planned with Cullen or the Inquisitor or some company under her command.  
  
“Josephine,” she said, stopping her. It was now or never. “I must ask you something.”

“Yes, of course.” She stopped and looked at her. Her expression was full of confidence and purpose. It irked her for some reason—jealousy, maybe. Cassandra had never been so assured of herself, and she had certainly never looked it, either.

“I have been told…” She faltered. “That you have been looking at me in a matter that ill suits our present relationship.”

She frowned. “I… What? Who told you this?”

“Sera.”

“Who else?” She sighed. “That girl…”

“Is it true?”

She opened her mouth and looked at her, and her expression sank in a way that answered her question better than words ever could. “You can tell,” she said, looking away. “I am… even worse at hiding it than I thought I was. Though why you would bother to bring it up now, I could not imagine. I know for a fact that my infatuation will lead absolutely nowhere.”

“I do not take offense.”

“I know you are not interested in women,” she said sharply. “Say what you’d like. It is still completely unprofessional of me to have acted that way toward you. It is shameful.”

“It is not shameful to feel emotions,” said Cassandra, and that brought some small measure of comfort to herself, because it applied to her too. “You have no control over them.”

“But I do have control over how I react to them. How I hide them. I never wanted you to know.”

This conversation was beginning to ring oddly familiar. “Why are you so upset?”

“You are going to become the Divine! You should be more upset over this. Or are you really that conceited that you take pleasure in how I pine over you like some lovesick Chantry nun?”

Her brow furrowed. “Not at all!”

“Then at least ridicule me for it!” She groaned. “I was hoping you’d be more critical, honestly. The fact that you seem to understand, it only makes me feel worse. I have always found you pleasing to the eye, but I never…” She paused. “I never thought it would develop into anything more.”

She had no idea how to respond. Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes. What did you even say to something like that? She didn’t even have anything to turn down; Josephine had already accepted that she was never going to return her feelings in the first place.

“Now you know,” Josephine said, curtly. She began to pace ahead of her. “And we will never have to speak of this again.”

“It can’t be that simple.”

“It will. It must. We have more important matters to discuss.”

Cassandra matched her stride until she was walking ahead of her, and then stood in her way. “Josephine.”

She froze, looking somewhere between surprised and annoyed. “What?”

“You must…” She exhaled. “Where do I even begin with this… The letters. You have not read them yet?”

“No. I have not.” She began to relax by a fraction. “What about them?”

“My responses. To Malmaison. They were not of a… particularly agreeable nature.” She glanced away. “I must… There is something I have to…” She closed her eyes. “I cannot say.”

“Take your time, Cassandra,” said Josephine, but she still looked confused. “You have enough trouble speaking as it is.”

“She… seems to have stirred some inclination within me that you would not condone in any fashion.”

She thought about it for a moment. “Then, when you accepted her invitation…?”

“I am no fool, but I am weak. She confused me, then took advantage of my confusion. I am sure that is what she intends to continue doing. That is… what she has been doing, since we first met.” She turned her head, looked blankly at the rows of columns to her right. “You could not understand.” Her brows knit. “It is passion, twisted. It is raw sensation. I have… thought about it.” She wrung her hands, squeezed her fingers. “The feeling that it gives… It is like nothing you could ever imagine.”

Josephine was quiet for a long time.

“I… cannot blame you for your own proclivities, Cassandra,” she said, half-awkward and half-sympathetic. “I… Um.” She looked down. “I am grateful that you opened up to me, but I-I…”

“It is not something that I am proud of. You can be assured of that.”

She blushed. It was the most innocent reaction she had seen from her in a while. “You know, that isn’t really helping your case!”

“What do you…”

“I understand that you are trying to sympathize, but you cannot just…” She ran a hand through her hair. “Maker, you are something else,” she breathed. “How anyone could possibly find themselves idle around you, I would never know.”

She grimaced. “You are thinking about it, aren’t you.”

“You are the one who chose to tell me,” she chided. “If I think about it, then it is entirely your fault.”

“Then forget I said anything. Please.”

“I, uh…” She wet her lips, composing herself. “I will not tell a soul. In return, please, please,” she said, walking closer, “for the love of all that is good and holy, do not tell anyone else about this, ever.” She pressed her hands to Cassandra’s. “I mean it. Celene might evade reproof because she is the Empress of Orlais, but a Seeker of the Chantry—much less the Divine—cannot come off as so libidinous. It will ruin your chances and most likely your good name.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “You are unfathomably gorgeous, Cassandra, but in this case, it isn’t doing you any favors.”

Cassandra eased her hands away. They were too close, now, uncomfortably so.

“I understand,” she said, but the hammering in her chest suggested something else. She was dizzy. This was ridiculous. Too much had happened this week, and she could not process it all at once. “I should…” She took a step back. “I will not be long, Josephine.” It was hot. It was hot, wasn’t it, though she had been feeling cold just a moment ago. “For now, we have the matter of Malmaison to sort out. We will deal with the rest later.”

She smiled. She seemed relieved for some reason, which was horrible, because Cassandra was feeling the exact opposite. “Yes. I will await your return.”

She left. She could not focus on anything else for the rest of the day.


	4. Splendor of Lost Hearts

Three days before the date of the excursion, Leliana had news of Malmaison. Josephine met her in the rookery, as usual, but she could tell that the occasion was nothing to celebrate.

She pulled out a chair for her, by one of the tables. “Take a seat. This is going to take some time to explain.”

Josephine sat. “All right. I’m listening.”

“We did find what were looking for, but we found something much more troubling in the process,” Leliana began, pacing around the table. “We have reason to believe that the madame is making deals with the Venatori.”

Andraste and all her saints. “She couldn’t wait, could she? Or is she merely backstabbing everyone in some crazy bid for power? Part of this excursion was meant to set up troops by her estate.” Josephine groaned. “What are we supposed to do now?”

“It… depends. We are not clear on what her mental state is like.” She frowned a bit. “Actually, I’m not sure if we were ever certain about that. If she has not been possessed or brainwashed, then she may still be willing to listen to reason. If not, then we must detain her and take her in to be questioned—provided that she survives the initial assault.” She went on, “Our one solace is that the Orlesian court has still not learned of it yet. Whatever happens to her, we can use our firsthand knowledge as leverage to win Cassandra the seat of Divine. In fact, it may come in handy if we credited her with taking the madame down herself. We could fashion her into a hero of sorts—rooting out corruption in the heart of Orlais.”

Her brows knit. “Do you want me to speak to Malmaison again?”

“Will you?” Leliana looked at her. “Or, rather, do you think that’s such a good idea?”

“There will be Inquisition forces in the area. I would have sufficient protection in case fighting broke out.”

“I’m not sure that diplomacy would be of any use, at this point.”

“If the Orlesian court catches word that Malmaison has been corrupted by the Venatori, then it could throw the country into chaos. The matter must be dealt with delicately. Else, it will not only be Malmaison we will have to worry about.”

“Then we wait before we make our findings public. Diplomacy only works if the people involved are of sound mind. I’m not putting you in danger if nothing is going to come of it.”

“But she…” She sighed. “She is odd, yes, but she is calculating. If the Orlesian court has not found out by now, then this is either very new or very deliberate.”

“We are still setting troops on her doorstep, regardless of what happens,” said Leliana. “We could monitor her for a bit, and see if anything comes of it. But time is not on our side.”

“How long does it take to reach the Emprise?”

“Oh, it’s… a four-day march through the mountains. It’s awful. It’s a little quicker if you don’t have so many horses and supplies to maneuver around.” Leliana looked at her. “If you were to meet with Malmaison, I would have you go a separate way. Most of our troops are already going there, though, and those that aren’t are in the Wilds… Who’s left…” She sighed. “The Chargers are with Cole and the Inquisitor on a mission in the Emerald Graves, and Solas insisted he go with them. Vivienne is going with Cassandra, and Blackwall is stationed here in case of an attack, so that leaves…”

“Dorian and Sera.”

“Right. The moaner and the troublemaker. They work well together, incidentally, but to have almost everybody out at once…” She thought about it. “Well, the Inquisitor is supposed to return the day Cassandra leaves, so that should buy us some time in case of an emergency. Provided you can tolerate their personalities, Dorian and Sera should be enough. I would send Blackwall with you as well, but he’s too good for morale. The place tends to fall apart if both he and Cassandra are out.” She nodded. “Nonetheless, I’ll organize a small number of troops at your disposal. Sera’s friends have pockets of resistance in the Emprise. If you can rendezvous with them, then consider yourself protected. I will let them know in advance.”

Josephine took a moment to absorb everything. Then, she asked, “Do I tell Cassandra about this, or would that be self-defeating?”

“You know her,” said Leliana. “She’d tell you to your face that she was perfectly fine with the idea, and then panic over it in private. As far as I remember, we didn’t plan for her to run into Malmaison. It may not be beneficial for us to tell her that we could attack her estate.”

“Are you always like this with her, Leliana?”

“She’s a Seeker, Josie.” She smiled. “She works better in the dark.”

 

* * *

 

The day Cassandra left, she had felt guilty for omitting her own visit to the Emprise, but their last conversation had ended so dramatically that she was glad to be rid of her for a while. Cassandra’s having those… particular inclinations had changed her perception of her by quite a lot, but it did not seem grossly out of character for her to be so fascinated with sensation, to want to be—

She dropped her pen. Tomorrow she would leave for the Emprise with Sera and Dorian herself; she could not be distracted by such thoughts.  
It was difficult. Cassandra was the embodiment of passion, to be sure. She turned anger into an art form for all the ways she tried to deal with it, always felt too much and too deeply. If she sought escape, and there was someone willing to provide it, she could imagine how much Cassandra had to have struggled with the idea.

On top of which, Malmaison was a serpent. She picked her targets well, was apparently above reproach. She had not read the letters, but she did not need to read them to understand their contents. The thought tempted her, hanging above her head like ripe, forbidden fruit. Malmaison was willing to give her everything she had denied herself—luxury, sex, freedom from responsibility—and she must have hated that she even considered it. Malmaison capitalized on her shame, chipped away at her defenses, and Cassandra ignored it and anguished over it until Josephine forced her to confront it, and she was only fully aware of what she had done.

It frightened her, a little. Cassandra was not some unpredictable wild animal; she was a Chantry Seeker of noble birth who had spent years performing the work of the Divine. She had made a name for herself before Josephine had even left her parents’ house, and well before she became anyone of note. She was both accomplished and disciplined. It was absurd to suggest that she would drop everything she ever possessed—her dedication to the Maker’s work—for an evening with a woman who would have tried her hardest to break her.

Why? What was the missing link? Where had Malmaison gone right and all else so horribly wrong? What did she know about her that everyone else didn’t? She wanted to undo this ugly knot of self-denial that Cassandra had twisted into and straighten it again, to make things neat, to set things right.

Was it thankless work? No, she didn’t care about recognition, only results. Then, maybe she was lonely? Everyone was lonely sometimes; that was not an excuse for someone her age. Was it everything at once? Pure indulgence? Raw, gnawing hunger, built up over the years, curiosity turned to burning obsession, like a child reaching for a candy jar, like a thief at the morning market. Things that rattled around in her head, that she shut out with violence and indignation, with purity of purpose. She was a vessel for the Maker’s work. The Right Hand of the Divine. It was a shame.

She was so much more than that.

 

* * *

 

Josephine had little rest that night, forced herself out of sleep the next morning. They needed to leave early. She had asked for a little more time to send out letters and let people know of her impromptu absence, but now that her business was done, they needed to reach the Emprise as soon as possible. Malmaison was becoming an even greater threat than before—and how, or why, they knew of neither.

After packing her things, gathering her small party, and retrieving the horses from the stables, they set out from Skyhold. Three days, Leliana estimated, as long as they kept a steady pace and encountered no surprises. They were about an hour’s march away from Skyhold, the sky still aflame with sunrise, when Josephine ran into an Inquisition messenger.

“Ambassador Montilyet!” A dwarf scout ran toward their group from somewhere along the mountain ridge, flailing a letter at her. “A letter for you from Dowager Beauharnais!”

She eased her mount to a halt. “What? The dowager? But she’s been out for months.”

“I received word that she just came back from Nevarra. You’ll want to open it now. I think it’s urgent.”

“This is… untimely.” She dismounted and opened the letter with a knife from the scout, and scanned the contents. Her brows knit. “Very untimely.”

“What does it say?” asked Dorian from behind her.

“The dowager has returned from Nevarra with the intention of championing Cassandra as the next Divine. She has offered us her help, at a cost we will be able to afford.”

“Well,” said Sera. “Shite. What’s the point of going over there now, then?”

“To inform the others. Oh, Andraste’s tears,” she groaned, handing the letter back, “ensure that this makes it to Leliana and the Inquisitor intact. This is completely ridiculous.” She massaged her forehead. “All that work, and for what? We don’t even need Malmaison anymore; we have the Pentaghasts!”

“Understood, Ambassador.”

She hoisted herself back up on her mount. “Head for Skyhold at once, soldier. We’re calling the operation off.”

The dwarf headed off in the opposite direction.

“Wait,” said Dorian, “then that means…”

“If the Inquisition assaults Malmaison’s estate, then it will have been a wasted effort. Nevarra’s support is more than enough; the Pentaghasts would never turn down a chance to see one of their clan elected. I thought Beauharnais would have missed the election, though.”

“But we still have other operations in the Emprise, correct?”

“They do. We don’t.” Josephine sighed. “If Malmaison’s really working with the Venatori, then we may end up having to attack her regardless. It doesn’t matter unless Leliana was following pure speculation, though she has been known to do that sometimes.”

“You know…” Dorian was quiet. “This whole business with the dowager, and Cassandra going into the Emprise…”

Josephine turned to look at him. “What are you suggesting?”

“She is quite impulsive, Ambassador.”

“Impulsive, yes, but not suicidal!” She turned away. “She would never risk her life just to…”

Sera coughed. “Uh, yeah. She would. If she can keep something like that a secret for that long…”

“Then she would probably want to resolve it out of the limelight as well,” Dorian said, as if this were all some kind of riddle. “Ah, I see! How insightful.”

“If it really comes to that,” Josephine said, fuming, “then I will melt down my chain of office, forge it into a hammer, and beat her with it.”

“Really?” He sounded astonished.

“At this point?” She glared at him. “I just might.”

She spurred her mount into a gallop. They could not arrive there sooner.

 

* * *

 

They stayed quiet about the whole ordeal until nightfall, and made their camp along a nearby river that flowed through the Frostbacks. After feeding and watering their mounts and pitching their tents, they sat down to take their supper.

She had no appetite.

“Life on the road wearing you down?” Dorian asked, not without sympathy. “I know the feeling.”

“That isn’t the problem.”

“Yeah, only everything else,” Sera snapped from her left. “Cassandra’s been acting weirder and weirder these past few weeks. I blame you.”

“I blame myself as well.”

“What?” Sera stared at her, aghast. “No! Act all touchy and stuff! How am I supposed to reply when you’re bein’ all sad?”

“I suppose you already know, Master Pavus, being the busybody that you are,” Josephine said dryly.

He smiled. “Whatever could you mean, Ambassador?”

“Only what half of Skyhold has been gossiping about ever since I tried to give Cassandra etiquette lessons.”

“Those were etiquette lessons?” His eyebrows raised, incredulous. “That’s not what I heard.”

“I’m sure you have heard plenty. I’m not deaf to the rumors, unlike our distinguished Seeker of Truth. To make it perfectly clear, we are not an item.”

“But you want to be,” said Sera, “don’t you?”

“It would not help either of us attain our goals, I will say that much.”

“Is this the so-called ‘splendor of lost hearts’ that you Orlesians are so proud of?” asked Dorian. “To love, but to never consummate?”

“Is it? Either way, if we don’t pull Cassandra out of the fire, then this will all have been for naught.”

“You know,” Dorian went on, “I recall having a conversation like this about a month ago.”

“In the Hissing Wastes, right,” said Sera.

“What do you mean?”

They looked at each other. “About Cassandra’s popularity with women,” said Dorian.

“About how they’re mad for her whole sexually repressed Seeker act?” said Sera. “Yeah, me too.”

“I guess we were right,” he said.

“It worked.”

“She did what?” asked Josephine.

“Maybe she was trying,” said Dorian.

She frowned. “I doubt it.”

“Maybe she didn’t know she was trying!” Dorian continued. “Maybe it was a… stroke of fate, a bit of the Maker’s luck that led one to the other.” He made a grandiose gesture with his arms. “She needed to be understood, and you just happened to be the one to heed her soundless call, quench her deep thirst for support and companionship.”

Her face grew hot.

“Oh, shut it, you blatherer,” said Sera. “Lookit now—Josie’s eating it up.”

“Works every time.”

“I really cannot…” said Josephine, unsettled.

“I never said you had to,” said Dorian. “Cherish your _splendeur_ as you’d like. I just let my mouth run because I bore easily. Especially with this foul-mouthed imp here,” he muttered, jabbing a thumb in Sera’s direction.

“You love it, you filthy sod,” she said. “You’re just sore ‘cause Bullsy-wullsy isn’t here to warm your bedroll.”

“I have the feeling the Inquisitor has been doing that on purpose.”

“The Inquisitor says that you both finish your work faster when you’re kept apart,” said Josephine. “If you must know.”

He rolled his eyes. “‘Splendeur,’ indeed…” He took a sip from his flask. “Anyway, you and Cassandra ought to sort out your feelings before she goes off to the Grand Cathedral to become Divine. It sounds like that’s become more than a mere possibility, at this point.”

“I didn’t need to hear that from you.”

“How inconsiderate of our ambassador! I suppose you can’t be pleasant all the time.”

“I’m serious, Dorian.” She scowled. “It’s hard.”

“As if love were ever easy.”

She stared at her supper. It had long since grown cold. “Enough of this,” she said, and picked up her bowl. “We leave at dawn tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

She knew the Emprise when she saw it. It was nothing but snow as far as the eye could see, stretching out for miles and miles without pause. Tents collapsed, houses abandoned, Venatori flags waving in the breeze—it was a battlefield, at the forefront of Corypheus’s invasion. Even with the war winding down in other parts of Orlais, the Emprise always seemed to suffer from one issue or another. The mines held great wealth, and both sides needed lyrium for their troops.

“Leliana said you had friends here, Sera,” said Josephine, as they entered the Inquisition camp by Sahrnia. “Do you think we’ll be needing them?”

“With Cassandra leading the charge? I wouldn’t be surprised if the Inquisition already beat us to the chase,” said Dorian.

“Hail, Ambassador Montilyet!”

Josephine looked up. “Chevalier de Chevin?”

The chevalier walked toward them, one arm raised. “Ambassador Montilyet, I only just received word of your visit.”

“Good day to you, Chevalier. Where are Lady Cassandra and the others?”

“Lady Cassandra and Madame de Fer are at Suledin Keep.”

Josephine sighed. “Good. Then that means they have not marched on Malmaison’s estate yet?”

“Madame de Malmaison?” Chevin paused. “She is the one you’re after, correct? The Inquisition was led to believe she was making deals with the Venatori, but she has caused little trouble for us here. Perhaps… it was an oversight?”

She frowned. “How do you mean?”

“It’s been quiet over at her estate. We’ve heard little from the madame for the past few days—almost nothing.”

“Since when?”

“At least three days ago.”

“We wouldn’t have known…” She shook her head. “Quickly, tell me what Venatori activity has been taking place in the Emprise.”

“Once the initial Templar threat was defeated, reinforcements have been coming in from the south—from the Arbor Wilds, I believe. We’ve been trying to keep them away from Malmaison’s estate, but we’re short on men as it is. I understand your need to see her, but I honestly cannot say what has become of her.”

“What do Lady Cassandra and Madame de Fer plan to do with her, currently?”

“I…” He shook his head. “I cannot say.”

“Suledin isn’t much further,” said Dorian. “We can meet up with them, if they’re still there.”

An Inquisition scout ran up to them. “No dice, Ambassador.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Lady Cassandra’s gone. She left about an hour ago.”

“Alone?”

“Yes. She said she couldn’t be seen with the others.”

“Knew it,” said Sera.

“Well,” said Dorian, “I guess we know where she’s headed.”

Josephine was exhausted. It was well past noon. “We must go now, then. With any luck, her foolhardiness has slowed her down, and we’ll catch up.”

 

* * *

 

There was something terribly wrong with Malmaison’s estate.

“I don’t see anyone,” said Dorian.

It still stood tall and proud, snow-covered and fenced-in as it was, but Josephine could not see a single person either on the grounds or within the building.

Josephine dismounted. “I don’t like this.”

“Careful, Josie,” murmured Sera from behind her. “Cassandra might be in there, but we don’t know what else is.”

Dorian walked onto the mansion grounds ahead of her, staff in hand. “I don’t sense anything particularly unusual…”

“That’s the problem,” said Sera, behind him. “There’s nothin’ in there. No magic, no demons, no people, no… nothing.”

Josephine glanced around. She saw the typical Orlesian garden setup—statues, frozen fountains, areas that should have been covered in greenery but were now covered in snow. There was a loneliness to it, like there was with every other part of the Emprise.

He pushed the doors open. They gave way, and the front hall of the mansion still looked inhabited.

“It could not have been abandoned for long,” said Josephine.

Sera made a face. “You think Cassandra’s still here, then? Just… goin’ through the mad lady’s stuff?”

Dorian sighed. “This place is massive. We’ll never find her just wandering around.”

“Do we have a choice?” asked Josephine.

“I suppose not.”

“Then do we split up?” said Sera. “Probably not. It might be creepily empty, but it’s not like it’s not still dangerous.”

“I’ve never been to her estate, unfortunately,” Josephine mumbled. “So I cannot say where anything would be.”

“Let’s just get moving,” said Dorian. “Cassandra can’t have gone that far. Not with the way she was stuck on the madame…”

They wandered the halls on the first floor, each one as disturbingly empty as the next. Josephine still noticed food on left tables, clothes in open closets, papers barely disturbed by the mountain breeze, next to an open window. If they had escaped, they had escaped less than three days ago, as Chevin had suggested.

Then they headed upstairs. Sera unlocked doors, checked bedrooms. Beds were unmade, more closets and chests remained open, and they found notes scrawled here and there regarding the madame’s recent dealings, her concerns about the Red Templars and the Venatori.

“Seems like her servants knew all about her blood magic,” murmured Dorian.

“Yeah, and she was using it to control people,” spat Sera. “They knew about it, and they didn’t do shit. My people would have done something if this place weren’t full of blood mages. Probably why she managed to keep such a tight grip on power for so long.”

“But where is she now?” asked Josephine. “I know about her blood magic use and her colorful sexual habits and her myriad indulgences, but this… with the Venatori… That is new.”

“They’re everywhere,” said Dorian. “Are you really that surprised?”

“Perhaps Malmaison has weaknesses after all,” she said, but it still perturbed her. “Though I wonder why she would keep it hidden until now… unless they were pulling her strings all along, and forcing her to keep quiet.”

“Maybe they killed her,” said Sera.

Dorian and Josephine looked at her.

“What? She’s human. She can still die. Unlike Corifibutt who can swap bodies.”

“If she were dead, then why has no one informed us yet?” said Josephine. She groaned. “Ugh, none of this makes any sense…”

They continued to walk, until they came to the master bedroom. Sera checked the door.

“Well, it’s open.” She gave it a slight push.

There, the smell of rot, a body on the bed, and Cassandra.

“Cassandra!” cried Josephine.

“I…” She turned around, frowning. “This is not… She was dead before I arrived. Newly dead, it seems.” She motioned toward the body. “She left me a note.”

“Left you a note?” said Sera. “What’s that mean?”

“We agreed to meet. I was… going to settle matters with her. But that is no longer possible.” Her face was unreadable. “She took her own life, to protect her own secrets. The blood mages under her direction… They are all also dead. Their bodies are in the basement. I believe she either intended to have them all cremated, or already did.”

“Explain, Cassandra,” said Josephine. “What was she protecting? From whom?”

“The Venatori wanted her for her blood magic. She was a very successful user of it. She never fell to demonic possession or anything of that nature. She was always in control.” She glanced at the body. “She could not remain in control forever, unfortunately. She tried to bargain with them, made deals with the demon Imshael and Mistress Poulin. But the Inquisition took care of them both, and with that, went her protection. She could not be seen working with the Venatori if she was to retain her good standing with Orlais, so instead of surrendering to them, she took her own life.” Cassandra nodded. “I believe the final straw was when the Venatori managed to corrupt her own blood mages. I cannot tell from the notes whether it was a mass suicide or an eventual slaughter of her own people. Whatever the case, they are all dead now. Freshly. This could not have happened earlier than yesterday.”

Josephine saw something crumpled in her hand—her final address, she assumed.

“Then we’re done here,” Sera said. She looked uneasy. “Malmaisy’s dead, and you’ve got another supporter back in Nevarra. We can leave.”

Cassandra looked at her, but her expression was blank.

Dorian put a hand on Sera’s shoulder. “I don’t think she’s quite ready to leave yet, Sera.” He looked at Josephine. “We’ll inform the others of Malmaison’s fate. You have an escort by the front gate. Come when you’re ready.” He sighed as he led Sera out of the room. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this.”

Josephine watched him walk out. “Cassandra…”

“She’s dead,” she said. “They are all dead. The letters she sent… She was hiding the truth from me.” She inhaled sharply. “She was fooling around when she could have asked for help!” She glared at her. “This is madness! Why on earth would she send me those stupid letters when she was in mortal danger? Did she honestly believe she could deal with the Venatori herself? Or was she afraid that we would punish her for using blood magic? Why would she play these games instead of approaching the Inquisition for assistance?”

“She did,” said Josephine. “Too late, it seems.”

“She was not a good person, I will say that much, but I would not wish this fate upon even her.” Cassandra shook her head. “All these years of putting off her advances, and now I see her dead by her own hand? Forced into a corner by the Venatori? She was unstoppable!” She looked at her, anguished. “This is humiliating. She was killed by her own pride. Her hubris.”

“We don’t need her help anymore, Cassandra. We have found you another sponsor.”

Her expression hardly changed. “Fine.”

“How… How do you feel about all of this?” Josephine asked, but she regretted it the moment the words left her mouth.

“Terrible!” Cassandra snarled. “I have nothing. No closure, no chance at reconciliation, absolutely damned fucking nothing. She has won. She has won our game. She has made me miserable, sick to my stomach with all her putrid bullshit. I could vomit. This place smells of Nevarra, and I could vomit.” Cassandra approached her, towering over her in a way that made her knees weak. “Do you know how many years I was waiting for this? Waiting to see her. Kill her! I don’t know what I was going to do, but I was going to see her, finally!” She balled her hands into fists.

“Cassandra…” Josephine looked away. She did not know what to do.

“I… I am…” She shut her eyes. “This was not your fault. I should not be taking all of this out on you.” Cassandra raised a hand, and she flinched, and she lowered it until her hand was resting on her shoulder. Her hand shook. “Nothing but the dead is left here. We should… We…” She picked up her hand and smashed it against a nearby table, hurling herself onto the surface. “Agh! That fucking woman! I hate this!”

“Cassandra, let us go, please.”

She steadied herself against the table. Tears streaked her face. “I cannot let this go. I… I am so sorry.” Her voice trembled. “I feel… wrong. Violent. You should really…” She paused, inhaled, and then coughed. “By the Maker, let us get out of here, or I will really vomit.”

Josephine led Cassandra out, out of the mansion, out of the front gate.

By the time they reached their escort, her legs gave out.

The escort looked at her. “Is she…”

“She will be fine,” Josephine snapped. “But…” She looked at her. “I scarcely think she’s in a condition to meet with her own troops. We should probably find somewhere for her to rest, first.”

“There aren’t that many places to rest around here, Ambassador.”

She glared at him. “Then make one.”

 

* * *

 

“Pathetic.” Cassandra sniffled, clutching her cup.

Rations in the Emprise were scarce. The fact that they even had any tea to give Cassandra at all—much less anything to put it in—was some kind of miracle. They sat inside a tent the escort had hastily pitched, not far from the Malmaison estate.

“We should move soon,” she continued. “They will be wondering where I am.”

“You are exhausted and you are resting,” said Josephine. “Take however long you need to recover. You have just suffered an extremely distressing ordeal; I am sure they will understand.”

She shook her head. “Just like that. Everything is over, just like that. Maker take me; I think I am finally prepared.”

“It will not be much easier once we head back to Skyhold. Dowager Beauharnais has returned from Nevarra, and wishes to sponsor you.”

“That shriveled old shrew? Hang her,” Cassandra growled, her voice raw from crying. “She will never shut up about my being a Pentaghast.”

“She’s your best option as of now, unfortunately.”

“She will want favors for Nevarra.”

“I had foreseen that. It is nothing the Inquisition cannot handle.”

“The favors will not stop once I become the Divine.”

“That is not something I have any control over, sadly.” Josephine looked at her.

“I’m not ready. I don’t know if I will ever be ready. That house full of corpses and now my family suddenly cares about me again—none of it makes any sense.” She groaned. “It’s like I’m being punished for something I didn’t even do!”

“You will have help. You have us.”

“Yes,” she sneered, “the Inquisition that wishes to make me Divine. I’m sure you will want me to see the responsibility as an honor and not a punishment.” She made an irritated noise. “Honestly, Josephine, and I know you will think this crude—but I could not care if you asked me to consummate our relationship right here and now.”

Josephine blushed. “Cassandra, the escort is still here!” He was outside the tent keeping watch, granted, but he was definitely within earshot.

“I don’t care.”

“This is not an appropriate time to be talking about our relationship.”

“Frankly, I don’t care. I have some measure of affection for you. I cannot say of what nature, but it is there, and as far as Malmaison was concerned I am attracted to women.”

“Cassandra, you’re only saying all of this because you’re upset.”

“Then tell me to stop.” Cassandra looked at her, and she felt horribly exposed.

“I should…” Josephine looked outside the tent flap. She really had no excuse. “Are we quite done here, Cassandra?” she asked, hunching beside her. “Can you walk?”

She was silent for a moment. “Not well. I do not know if I can make the journey back to Suledin. And I do not know if I will be able to fight. I feel… drained.”

“It’s a four-day journey back to Skyhold. You must recover here.”

“I know,” she said sourly. “But for now, I cannot fight. I am exhausted, in so many ways. I was deprived of my chance. It was more than enough to ruin me.”

“I don’t want to force you, but we should not linger here. It’s much too cold,” said Josephine. “We need to let you rest inside a real building.”

Cassandra wiped her face with her sleeve. “Then at least allow me to look decent, first. I need to look angry, not pitiful.”

 

* * *

 

The walk back to Suledin took less time than expected. Vivienne was extremely gracious, and, having noticed Cassandra’s mental state, asserted control of the keep as soon she saw them. Dorian and Sera had returned a few hours before, and were helping to plot a course through the Emprise. Malmaison’s defeat signaled losses around the northwestern border, and new outposts had to be set up along the southeast. The center of the Emprise was firmly within Inquisition hands, but the borders had yet to be secured.

Cassandra still looked pale by the time their meeting was over.

Sera seemed concerned, which was unusual coming from her. “You gonna be all right, Cassandra?”

“I will be fine, eventually,” she said.

“Someone will need to tell Leliana about Malmaison,” said Dorian.

“And I need to return to Skyhold to address the matter of Dowager Beauharnais,” said Josephine.

“You gonna go off alone, then?” asked Sera. “To tell Leliana that we don’t need soldiers round the madame’s estate anymore?”

“I will follow suit once I see that concerns have been addressed here,” said Cassandra. “The Orlesian court knows of Malmaison’s obsession with me. We will need to discuss how we are to deal with her death—and my part in it.”

“You don’t believe they will accuse you of killing her?” asked Josephine.

“I will not take my chances. You also do not know enough about my relationship with the Pentaghasts. While Beauharnais will be willing to help us regardless, if you make arrangements that are too favorable toward her, I can’t promise that I will be able to fulfill them. She will continue to insist on her support after I become the Divine.”

“She wants Chantry support for Nevarra,” said Josephine. “Yes. I know. The civil unrest there has yet to end.”

“Yet another matter I will have to deal with, I’m sure.”

“That’s it, then?” said Dorian. “We have all our ducks in a row here? Clean up the Emprise, take care of the dowager, deal with the remains of the madame, and this whole mess will be sorted out?”

“Don’t make it sound so easy,” said Cassandra. “This whole mess will take years to sort out.”

“Guess that means you’re stuck with Josie for a while longer, then,” Sera drawled.

Josephine and Cassandra looked at each other.

Cassandra sighed. “This will never end, will it? I am sorry that you had to put up with them. They are intolerable.”

Josephine wanted to share Cassandra’s exasperation, but couldn’t. “They’re right. We cannot delay the discussion forever.”

“Later,” she said. “Much later. Preferably when I have managed to expunge the sight of Malmaison’s rotting corpse from my brain.”

“All right,” she said, tentatively. “I will wait. And I am… sorry for pushing you so hard about this. It is selfish of me.”

“And yet you cannot help yourself.” Cassandra looked at her.

She turned away. “I should be going.”

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Josephine left for Skyhold. Once she arrived, she caught up with her work, and told Leliana of Malmaison, and went through her contacts to jog her memory of the dowager, and waited.

She waited, and waited, and waited, and the day Cassandra came back, Corypheus reopened the Breach.


	5. The Possibility of Impossibility

Cassandra spent most of the immediate victory celebrations in the infirmary with a gash down her side. Another dragon, another scar to prove it. Corypheus had been defeated—not without sacrifices, but he was well and truly gone for however long it took him to escape the recesses of the Fade. She had been there, had seen it with her own eyes. There was hardly a question of whether she would become the Divine now. Her heroics had endeared her to the people of Orlais once again. Though, all she wanted was some peace and quiet, and not to be around the sick and dying.

The celebrations in Skyhold lasted about three days, the length it took for her to escape the confines of the infirmary. She was glad for her loft, her cuirass and her leathers, the time off that she deserved after the election. She had not been there for it, though she understood that Beauharnais was essential in the last week or so before the voting took place. Messages were streaming into Skyhold from all corners of Thedas, and beyond: about Corypheus, about her induction, about the reconstruction efforts, about the Pentaghasts. Not only messages, but people, too, came for her, all demanding one thing or another.

It never ended. She would head to the Grand Cathedral in under a fortnight for her induction ceremony—and what a ceremony it would be. Lady Pentaghast this, Seeker Pentaghast that, Divine this, Most Holy that; she was not Andraste, she was not more than human. She would wield some of the most widely-respected authority that Thedas had to offer. They would look to her for guidance now—and not the other way around. Before she had revered Divine Justinia, but now she saw the position as something different, as something vulnerable to weakness and corruption, as something completely fallible.

Damn the Maker for her doubt. Damn her heresy.

On top of everything else, Josephine still handled her correspondence and they would still stay in contact because she needed the Inquisition’s support if she intended to stabilize the Chantry. She would have power, now, to contact the remaining Seekers and rebuild the order; Cullen had told her of Inquisition Templars that gave up lyrium and that were willing to be sworn into her service. The Circle would be rebuilt, but refashioned, in a way: governed by the mages themselves. Templars would be rededicated to protecting the innocent, and Seekers would be subject to transparency in their actions. She would oversee the Seekers personally, and she knew she would do it well. But incompetence and exploitation were necessary evils, she had been told. Her reign would not be spotless. No one’s ever was.

Still, now that idle fancy had turned to concrete reality, she had more confidence in herself. Josephine had called her an “unusually forthright choice.” She meant no offense by it, but the Chantry had never before named a Seeker the Divine. She would not drop the military branch of the Chantry, despite its problematic record. She needed the power, and wanted to do good with it. When her reforms had been put into place, and they functioned as intended, then maybe the next Divine could do away with the Templars as a part of the order. She might like to see that.

Josephine remained cordial through it all, somehow. They had exchanged few words between them since their trip to the Emprise, and afterward, everything had happened so quickly that they did not have the time to dwell on their relationship. It was, perhaps, a frivolous thought in the grander scheme of things, but by now she knew better than to ignore her feelings. She was not uncertain. She knew what she felt. Little more than curiosity, but how it _burned_.

 

* * *

 

They met along the battlements, in the evening, as the activity around Skyhold was winding down. She could not think of what to say.

“This is your chance,” said Josephine.

“My chance to what?”

“To change the world, as you wish to see it—and to have faith in your decisions.” Josephine looked at her. “You cannot put someone else in charge anymore. Now, you will always have the final word.”

“I’m aware of that,” she said, frowning a bit.

“Then why do you still look so hesitant?”

“Am I not allowed to feel nervous about this decision? I have known, since Beauharnais returned, that there could be no other option. That does not mean I have complete confidence that I won’t botch every step of the induction ceremony and make a fool of myself in the eyes of the public.”

She laughed. “I understand. But at least it is that you are worried about, and not how you will fit within the Chantry proceedings.”

“I will not fit in; I will lead. If I do not fit in with them, then I will mold them around my quirks of habit.”

“Do be careful that you do not disrupt routine too much.”

“I do not have the force of will to do that.” She sighed. “I can bluster, but I know better than to resort to force over trivial matters.” She stared at her hand, squeezed it into a fist. “Anger is not the solution to all problems, much as I make it seem so.”

“And that is not a concept that you struggle with,” she insisted. “You will learn self-control in time. You will make a good leader.”

“Says the woman who is in love with me,” Cassandra said dryly.

“Well, at least you know that I’m not flattering for flattery’s sake. I believe what I am saying.”

She leaned over the parapets and looked down at the torches burning below. “I always believed I was a romantic at heart, but I am not. I am a pragmatist to the core. Perhaps you were right when you said I had no faith in my own ideals. I’m not open to the possibility of… impossibility.” She turned to her. “That is why I try to hide my love of romance. I think it is a foolish notion. Child’s play.”

“And who could blame you, when you’re so devoted to the Maker’s work?”

“And yet I have such a weakness to it,” she drawled. “To lust and passion and stupidity, and to general lack of self-control. It speaks to me.” She stood up. “It… touches me. It fulfills some need that I have, some desire to be reassured that I am—fine, as I am. That I do not need to be perfect, and that I will still be loved in spite of my imperfections. That I have not been abandoned to my own fate.”

“You certainly don’t make it easy for anyone to tell you that.”

“How could I? I am fragile. Delicate as a flower wavering in the breeze.”

“You are not.”

“I am hardly experienced in the sphere of romance. I am not much more than a maiden.”

“You’re an adult woman,” said Josephine. “You have plenty of life experience. You need not to have courted multiple people to be ‘more than a maiden.’”

“Then I am insecure. Unconvinced of my own worth.”

“Many people are.”

“You aren’t,” she said, looking at her.

“I’m… a little different. And besides, our lives are anything but comparable. Before Haven, my life was somewhat stable. Yours was not at all. Ever. I mean, you helped to kill a dragon and saved the life of the Divine! Life doesn’t get much more exciting than that. Every time you accomplish something, you find yourself trying to top your own achievements. If you find that your work is not satisfying enough, then you push yourself harder. You’re always looking for something more to do. It’s in your blood, as a Pentaghast, as a Seeker of Truth, as someone sworn to greater things.”

“Indeed. You make my flights of fancy sound so noble,” she snorted. “I’ve slain dragons and led armies, and yet I still stew in my own discontent, still chase after foolish whims. You are right. I should be prouder of my own accomplishments. But how can I, when there is still so much work to be done?”

“I would tell you to take a break, but that likely won’t be happening for a while longer. The Chantry will not wait for you to catch your breath,” said Josephine, but she was smiling.

“They did elect me Divine. I can order them to wait.”

“You could.”

“Then perhaps I shall.”

“I… Um…” Josephine looked away. “I suppose it would not be a convenient time to bring up the matter of our… relationship.” She dragged the word out as if it were something unpalatable, tasteless.

Cassandra looked at her. “I am interested in you. Josephine. I am not head-over-heels in love, but I am curious.” She looked back toward Skyhold. “Though it matters little while we speak of my role as the Divine. I cannot be seen as prurient. I must appear… pure.”

“You?” She raised an eyebrow. “‘Pure?’”

“You are the one who told me that appearances were of the utmost importance.”

“I did. I jest.” She exhaled, a long, heavy sigh. “It is only a slight infatuation. It will go away with time.”

“As do all things.”

“It’s funny,” she said, with a small laugh, “first I was telling you to chase your dreams and be a romantic, and now I’m advising you to forget about your feelings and focus on your work. It appears that I cannot make up my mind, either.”

“It is hard. You want to prioritize, but you do not want to forfeit your own happiness. Though you are a diplomat, no? You should be able to compromise.”

“There is no compromise,” she said. “Love does not compromise. You are either fully in it, or fully out of it. Anything else is only self-deceit.”

“That’s not true,” she said, and suddenly her voice was louder. “It’s all about compromise. It isn’t perfect. You can’t preserve it in a jar. There must be sacrifices. It will be painful.” She turned toward her, bodily. “If your lover dies, then you cannot simply cast away your feelings. They will stay with you, and they will linger, whether you want them or not. Forever.”

“Regalyan,” said Josephine, eyes wide.

“I was not even involved with him then,” she said, looking back toward the parapets. “But first he was there, and now he is not. As are many other people I have had a great deal of affection for. Even those I did not, I still miss.”

“I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn.”

“And what to make of us,” Cassandra groaned. “We should not. My mind is telling me that we should not.”

“And your heart?”

“My ‘heart’ wants many things. It doesn’t want to be the Divine, for one. It wants to touch you. Do things to you. It is also permanently enraged. I am not so much a romantic as I am an angry zealot. You need to understand that, first of all.”

She laughed. “Well, you’re certainly something.”

“I am plenty of things.” She ran a thumb along the left side of her jaw, self-conscious. “I am a person. People are complicated. But…” She paused, took a moment to gather her thoughts. “For today, it wants nothing more than your company. It wants… you.”

Her eyes widened. “You aren’t telling me this because I want to hear it?”

She smiled. “If I tell someone what they want to hear, then it is never on purpose.” She leaned down, then hesitated. “Maker,” she breathed, their faces close, “if you told me I would be doing any of this a year ago, I would have punched you.”

Josephine set hands on her neck, closed the space between them.

It was a clumsy kiss, but a heartfelt one, and whether it would lead to anything more she did not know. But for now, they had time, and for now, that was all that mattered.

Josephine looked up at her, when they broke apart. “When… When did you know?”

“I do not,” she said, and she sounded tetchy even to herself. “But I am curious.” She slipped a hand through Josephine’s hair, allowed herself to touch. “I am never too certain about these things. I don’t know if I am interested in sex, or would merely be content to hold hands and have those blasted candlelit dinners with the flower bouquets and the poetry readings…”

“I could arrange that,” she said carefully, adjusting her position to be closer, snugger.

“Even if I could not promise you all the others?”

“I’m not looking for ‘all the others,’ Cassandra. I’m looking for a relationship. The rest will sort itself out in time.” Her expression hardened. “And there will be time, even if we have to make it.”

She held her close. She felt foolish, unwomanly. “At least you are more confident about this than I am.”

“And you are awkward and maladroit. Yes, I know,” she murmured into her neck. She eased herself away, and looked her in the eye. “Allow me to take care of it.”

She simpered, amused. “You wish to woo me?”

“If that what my lady desires,” she said, and brought them in for another kiss.


End file.
